Lost Requiem
by xbluxmoonx
Summary: How do murderers fall in love? Is it different? Is it even possible? What if you fall in love with the same man, the Hero, that has a bounty over your head? What do you do when you know you have to kill him to save yourself? Can you? Even if he loves you?
1. Inescapable Doubts

**_Lost Requiem  
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Prologue

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This was it. This was what I had come here for.

_Just do it._

I couldn't.

My heart was hammering inside my chest. I was scared. Frightened out of my wits. Gerudo women weren't supposed to be like this. But, I was. Did that mean that I wasn't Gerudo? Just because I couldn't kill _him_. I was so close, though. I could see the way his chest rose and fell, rhythmically. A soft, melodious cadence all on its own. It soothed. Wasn't music supposed to rest a person's mind and soul? How could I stop that? _He_ was my life's song. How could I get rid of him, now?

To see that ocean blue of his eyes disappear. To see that lively skin pale. His golden hair to reduce to nothing...

My chest ached. The hilt of the dagger in my hand prickled with feeling- or none at all. It was the same one I had stabbed the man with back in town, and I was using it, again. _He_ had pulled it from the man's chest. _He_ knew who he was searching for. To let him live? Was it an option? I hadn't been given an option. _Nothing_ had seemed to have been an option. It had just happened.

This was completely different. This was…this was freedom… I closed my eyes. To the moon, to the stars, to the world…

All I had was to hear.

The rider galloping across the plains, the wind whispering past his ears, the grass chanting at the mare's hooves.

Which way should I go? Which road should I take?

And then, they told me to do one thing, one simple nothing that required a halt to everything else...

They told me to listen.

So. I did.

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Chapter 1: Inescapable Doubt

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The night was hot, too hot for summer, even. And it wasn't even summer. This was why I preferred the desert. There was no horrid stench of rotting garbage, or of wet dogs splashing in dirty fountains, or of chickens clucking in annoyance every now and then. Where were the chickens, anyway? I didn't see them. Yet, through all this, the Hyrulian townspeople dared to leave their windows open to the night sky- more so, the odor. Reeking. But, at least, there was me. A thief. To be exact. All right, so I wasn't _just_ a thief. I was sort of- well, a red-haired, dark-skinned thief. Nothing I'm very proud if. I'm not even here to _steal_ anything…of value- or, more so, of too much importance. Actually, it was _he _that would do the stealing. The one I was looking for. I wasn't sure what he looked like, but he had to have light hair- and dark eyes. In case his genes were to show.

My mother would kill me if she found out he had blue eyes. He needed to have black ones- maybe dark green. Green was a pretty color- not as disastrous as blue. They wanted options, after all…

My hands were shaking, now, almost so much I wouldn't be able to hold my dagger properly. In this slick humidity, I couldn't even control my nerves. My_ nerves._ Mother always told me it was suicide to be nervous or frightened. Gerudo were never frightened. _I _couldn't be frightened.

The wall was solid behind me, and I leaned against the clay exterior, pushing my bare shoulders so far I feared it would give way. No. No fear. I wasn't afraid. And, and if in any case that I was, the stars would guide me.

Nayru's Soul and Din's Heart and Farore's Bow… They twinkled, urging me forward. I glared at them.

How _could_ they?

I felt so disgusted by myself, searching each and every window- as if beyond each dark abyss led into someone's very soul…

Which should I choose? Which man's life should I ruin?

There was that one…A red flag- crisp and new, hanging stiffly straight over the windowsill- no marks, no attachments. I could glide in swiftly without any extra precautions, no looking over my shoulder, no hesitations, no worries...

_New one_, I thought.

I wasn't sure if I wanted an experienced one, yet. I would have to worry; I would _have_ to take precautions, and it would certainly have to be quick. I wasn't sure if that was what I wanted. But, then again, new ones would be the ones to be frightened and anxious. How would I deal with him? How could I calm him down while _I _was fighting my better judgments?

I glided past this alleyway, hiding amongst the shadows where the moonlight couldn't penetrate. Rats scurried behind my feet, tickling the back of my ankles. I kicked them away, shooing the cats, too, that meowed for some type of edible food in the overflowing trash bins.

Across, below a clay roof and above a beaten old door was a small, wood-framed windowsill. A torn red flag was pinned to the shutter- probably from being ripped on and off…

Old…experienced. Rude and ready and waiting…

I shuddered, and took a step forward. Quick and fast. Just get it over with. My mother would be pleased at my brevity and braveness. She always said Gerudo women must be strong and fierce. We cannot fear anything, feel anything. Nothing but the sun on our backs, our eyes on the goal, and our hearts with the King…

If Mother knew what I thought of our precious King, she'd have me whipped and thrown to the dogs.

That's why I was doing this... I had to prove to her and to the others that I wasn't weak and pathetic. If I had a Gerudo child, they would praise me. At eighteen, what else was there? For a Gerudo, anyway. It was different out here. Women had more to their lives than this. They could become more, _be_ more.

What would I have? Some fighting skills and a child that I would never see again until she was old enough to brave the Sea of Sand?

"What are you waiting for?" Gruff. Drunk. His voice could cause a million women to flee. His beady eyes were staring at me through the window, with his slick, oily skin glowing a sickly, yellow pallor from the glowing candle in his meaty hand.

I leaned into the opposite wall, heart hammering inside my chest. _Be brave, be brave, be brave…_ It wasn't working, and I sank farther into the grime that I was.

"Don't be stupid, wench!" He whispered hoarsely, leaning out the window and revealing the ragged clothing draped over his chest.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. My mother's words were fading away, now. What did it matter if she had told me they didn't control me? What could she do, now? She wasn't here. She hadn't even held my hand before I had gone- like she had the first time I had met her before I had to cross the Sea of Sand. She didn't kiss my forehead- some foreign woman back then that had me shaking with fear.

Why had they pushed me into the wild? Why hadn't they helped me when I had become lost- when my lantern ran out of oil and my hook shot jammed? I felt as if I was there, again, with the spirits of my ancestors haunting me, calling me weak and worthless…

Where was my horse, I wondered. Where was his calming neigh, and his soft coat…?

Outside, waiting. I could hear the beating of his hoofs, the clank of his silvery armor…

I looked up, eyes wide, to face the stranger. His beady eyes didn't face me, but, instead, were locked somewhere down the alley. For a moment, I thought of running that way- maybe I had gone and I couldn't remember. Mind separating from body? But I could still feel the sultry wall clinging to my skin- as if I was apart of it, now, and I could still hear the beating upon the ground.

It wasn't my horse, after all; it was a soldier. He had heard me- or the grungy man in the window. If he caught me, I would be an embarrassment to my society, and banned from Hyrule Castle Town. I couldn't live with that; it was- it was _humiliating_.

The man snatched the red scarf from his window, ripping it further, then waved to me with furious gestures. I stood there, cowering. My eyes shifted from him to the dark alleyway, and then back.

"Hurry!" He then whispered, eyebrows furrowed together.

Ignoring the flips of my stomach, and the horrible taste in my mouth, and the quivering of my legs, I climbed up to his window. Using the empty crates near the door and crevices in the brick, I was able to grasp the edge of the windowsill. Dust played on my fingertips, then glided down to spot my forehead and eyes. I shut them, shaking my head, hoping to somehow wipe away the stinging pain. Before I could do anything of the sort, a large hand took hold of the back of my blouse and yanked. My head banged against the wooden sill, then nearly choked me. This man had no proper bearings, whatsoever, but he was able to pull me through the window, nearly pulling my hair out and tearing my blouse in the process.

Dizzily, I now sank to the floor, grabbing my head for some sort of leverage. Any I regained in those first few seconds were shattered to pieces when the shutters slammed shut, cutting short any sound and light that had filtered graciously through. I couldn't see the stars anymore, or hear the clanking of the soldier outside. The world wasn't there for me, anymore. It didn't spin uncontrollably like I wished it to. Everything was still here, sure and firm and real- yet unutterably unrecognizable.

I didn't like it. I was trapped. With a hand clamping over my wrist like a manacle drenched in lard and alcohol.

Sickeningly, with this stench in mind, and the rough caress of a hand on my cheek, my man greeted, "Welcome to my home, sweetie…"

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AU: Very sorry for the unoriginal title. But it has a meaning. Please leave a review and stay posted :)


	2. Broken Glass

_**Lost Requiem**_

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Chapter 2: Broken Glass

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My first thought was to retaliate, to get this piece of filth off of me. But I couldn't move. If it was because he was too heavy to move, or because my heartbeat was too loud and deafening in my ears that I felt drowned out and helpless, I wasn't sure. I was sure, however, that I couldn't stay where I was; I couldn't let this simple man run me around like a dog. If he did, I would be an embarrassment to society. _My _society.

The dagger was tied with a small sash to my calf. But my legs were sprawled out, too far for me to reach. With the man struggling vainly to get me up and out of my clothes, it was much too hard to reach for it without dropping my guard. I'd have to try something else, albeit without a very secure plan or proper bearing on it.

"Wait, wait…" I whispered breathlessly, my voice hoarse from the constant battle of his damned hands.

He grunted, backing away and pulling on his elf ears in anxiety. "What?"

"Shouldn't we…?" I glanced toward a wooden doorway across the room. Dim, yellow light shone through the crack under the door, flickering now and then as if someone was passing by.

"My wife sleeps like a sloth," he said, "She won't hear a thing."

"All right…" I fixed my clothes, swallowing; "then, maybe we should…move somewhere more comfortable?"

He smiled, rotting teeth decaying right in front of my eyes. "Of course, dear." He got up with a drunken haze, nearly stumbling over me. A large, dirty-nailed hand reached down- right in front of my face. I slapped it away, then used the wall for support.

"Feisty…" he muttered before grabbing my arm and pushing me forward- toward a wooden table. A ceramic bowl of wrinkling fruits lay in the middle. He placed that aside- near a small, clay oven…

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. We were in his kitchen.

"I hope you find the kitchen to be a delightful place. Others of your kind haven't minded before… Of course, those were the better days- when they weren't so _picky_…"

"And you weren't so pudgy…" I added sardonically. He bared his teeth, then moved to shove me down on the table. I wrestled from his grip, though, as it had been too loose of a hold.

Smelling his whiskey breath made it easy to declare that he wasn't going to be in his right mind for this. I didn't want someone like _him_. Even if my daughter would never meet her father, she should at _least_ know he wasn't a drunken whore with a knack for gluttony and all the other seven deadly sins.

"I'm leaving," I told him, brushing past his shoulder with a little extra force. I expected him to watch me leave with a wide fish mouth, and know for the rest of his life that he blew it for sure. But, that familiar grip was back on my arm- harder, now. I turned to face him, eyes narrowed. "Let me go." I said.

He chuckled bitterly, "I just saved your life, wench. I ask for payment."

I flexed my fingers. _Don't hurt him, don't hurt him, don't hurt him…_

"I will be forever in your debt, good sir," I nearly choked on these words, but continued nevertheless, "but my intentions are not the equivalent of yours. I ask for your forgiveness."

He scowled, "Words will get you nowhere, harlot. I…"

He didn't have a chance to finish- I didn't let him. I punched him using my free, left arm, creating a sickening crack to resonate throughout the room. It silenced everything for a few moments, leaving me time to inspect my work: I had created a dark bruise over the bridge of his nose, sending blood dripped down from his nostrils and from the cut where cartilage had ripped through.

_Good enough_, I thought, shaking my hand free from his hold before turning to him and adding triumphantly, "No one calls me a harlot…"

But, he snarled, "You, bitch…" and ignored my attempt to at least _explain _my self defense. With one hand protectively over his broken nose, he reached forward to snatch at my hair.

I slipped under his arm, as he clumsily tipped a step forward. I left my foot under him, and he tripped callously against the wall, knocking down a woven basket of clothing and breaking a wooden, unfurnished desk. The ceramic bowl broke as it hit the floor, sending the fruit rolling. I took one and stuffed it into my pocket.

_Thief_, my little mind reminded me.

"Thief!" The man screamed, groaning loudly, "Thief, thief! Help!"

"No!" I rushed toward him, just as he stumbled up, using the wall for support. Blood smeared wherever he touched, leaving imprints on the floor, on the wall, and as he made a dashing grab for my neck- my clothes, as well. He threw me against the wall- next to the closed window. The shutters rattled, and the door ahead shook in waking slumber.

"Howard?" A slurred, female voice croaked from the other side. The doorknob jiggled.

The man cursed, focusing on the locked door. Hesitating, he glanced toward me, then back at the door.

"Don't…want to keep y-your sweetheart waiting…" I croaked.

He growled, tightening his grip on my neck and banging my head harder against the wall. I moaned, fighting for breath. My lungs ached now, burning with a thousand sensations. I remembered my training- underwater survival they called it. I was nearly dying by the time they reached me, with water drowning my lungs and pulling me farther and farther down into the dark depths.

"I'll teach you to behave," the man whispered into my ear, shooing away the darkness. I thanked him and his rancid breath and his futile words. In my deepest gratitude toward him, I clawed at his face, pressing my nails deep into the dents of his broken nose. He cried out in pain, releasing me.

I slumped to the floor, just as the banging on the door drowned out my hacking coughs and his horrible wailing.

"Who's there?" the woman's voice screeched, and then another's- "We've called for help, Howard!" and, once more, "Wait, Father!"

"Pig!" I seethed, turning toward him as he stood up. More blood coated his shirt front, as if he had spilled dark ink all over him, splattering the walls and the floor- and his face, and mine.

He glared at me with wide eyes, hands raised up to his head. For a moment, I had no idea what he was doing, and my brain didn't process it until whatever he had been holding came crashing down. He slashed at my forehead blindly, sending a sharp cut down one side of my face- and nearly doing so right over my eyes- before I rolled onto my stomach and out of his way. He cried out in annoyance, reaching for my hair and succeeding.

"Now," he breathed, holding a piece of broken ceramic under my neck, "What do you say?"

I clenched my teeth together, feeling the sharp edge cut my skin. He was going to do it, I knew he was. Just seeing that gleam in his eyes cleared all doubt, and I couldn't let him kill me. I wouldn't let him win. That was why I jerked him away- to grab my dagger and hold it against his own neck. I thought he would stay put, then, and let me escape. There were soldiers gathering outside the kitchen door, pounding at the wooden planks, trying to get inside. There was no reason to fight anymore…

But the man, Howard, had the same notions in mind. And he wasn't going to allow it. Maybe it was because we were both stubborn humans that had to have our way. Maybe it was because neither of us could handle the thoughts of losing a fight- that one of us was destined to rule over the other.

I assumed, then, that that was the reason as to why he so stupidly tried to drag me toward his makeshift weapon. I, under such circumstances, wouldn't have it. And, now- even now, I don't know why I did it. I thought it had been self defense, to keep myself from dying in the hands of this-_this_ poor excuse of a man. But, now, well, it didn't matter. I had plunged the sharp blade into his chest, causing that horrid, gurgling gasp from his mouth. I took his life away, just as his last breath passed his bloody lips with such scorn in his tone that I actually believed him. I was going to get caught- and burn in hell…

I stopped pushing down on the dagger, my hands slipping on the golden curve of the hilt that was now slick with fresh blood. I fumbled for the hilt, again, trying to pull it out. It didn't budge- just the sickening suction of blood as it oozed out from the wound. The blade was wedged well inside his chest, as if his heart was stubbornly holding onto a lasting bitterness. _You stabbed me, you stabbed me, and now I'm going to get you…_

_Thump, thump, thump…_

_Thump, thump, thump…_

The door splintered…

_Thump, thump, thump…_

Then, it stopped.

Silence.

And then a silver blade sliced through the wood, sending bits of it flying. I covered my head, then crawled away. They kept hacking at the door, piling more wooden chips on the floor and onto the dead man at my feet.

"I see someone!" I heard a man's voice, and then more hacking, "Stay where you are!"

Light filtered through the small hole, but it was quickly cut away when a man's face peered through. I took this as my chance- my _last _chance, and turned around on my heels to pry the shutters open.

"Wait!" He called, "Stay there!"

Silver light cascaded through the window. I could see the stars again, twinkling like before- as everything was all right and everything would stay that way. But, it wasn't true. Nothing was all right, and I forced myself to look away from the night sky- instead, behind me, where a halo of golden hair shone through the dim light.

He was breaking the door down, forcing it open with his boot and anything else he could use (the sword was left jammed in the wood). Forget the doorknob. I flicked him a nice gesture out of my anxiety, pulled my hood up over my torn hair and bloody face, and disappeared into the moonlight.

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Another chapter done. I just want to thank everybody who R&R the last chapter. I'm hoping you all stay posted for the next chapter. I know it isn't as if I've officially introduced Link, yet, but I don't want to rush it and make it seem so overly cliché and well, overly done. This is the "enter name here" story after all. Her name will be introduced later on in the chapter- maybe next, maybe later on. But, it won't remain a mystery forever. :) Thank you all again and hope you stay posted. Any questions don't hesitate to ask.

P.S I'll be adding a prologue to this soon- probably at the beginning of the first chapter and not a whole chapter of it's own- to save time. Heh.


	3. Tempted Nothings

_**Lost Requiem**_

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Chapter 3: Tempted Nothings

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The blood curled and recoiled in the water like a fine mist, mingling with the water until a fine layer coated the surface around me. In the fading darkness, it glistened surreal- as if it was just water and nothing more. But, I could _feel _it, rippling as if it had a life of its own. There was no life left, though- just my hand splashing in the water to make the blood go away. I scrubbed harder- until my skin was raw and my clothes were soaking wet. The blood was still there…just not as obvious. And in the faint light, I scrutinized my hands. Blood still stuck like grime in the crevice of my nails, staining the once clear film. Filthy. I would never get the blood off my hands. Sighing, I glanced behind me- toward the rolling hills, past the silhouette of Lon Lon Ranch, at the red-streaked valley before the sun. Home was calling; I could feel it in my bones, beckoning.

And how I so badly wanted to return, too. It hurt just thinking about it- about what waited me, there. Did they wonder if I had succeeded? Did they imagine a small child growing inside me already? But, the Elder would know. She would know everything. My biggest problem was _her_. I just couldn't let them know what I had done. If anything, they were to know I had failed. That was all. I couldn't stay another night in town, after all. It was too risky, too dangerous.

Cupping clear, cold water in my hands, I splashed it on my face. I shivered, then rubbed my eyes to blink them open. Everything seemed sharper now, more lucid. Sighing, I realized this would be as awake and alert as I would ever be.

A last glance and I jumped out of the river, shivering in the cool, morning air. My horse, Che, waited nearby, pawing at the ground almost anxiously and snorting every now and then. I shushed him when I neared, and then rubbed the midnight-colored fur of his neck to soothe him. He shook his head, slapping his mane across my face.

"Thanks," I muttered, before grabbing the cape I had draped over his saddle. Something dropped to the ground, bouncing over my feet and rolling toward the water. I grabbed it before it could roll into the river. Scowling, I flung it back. It splashed into the water then bobbed up and down and traveled with the current to disappear down the river behind the foliage and hills. If I'd known I was stealing a dead man's piece of fruit I would have never done it. And I never wanted to do it, again. Stealing was pathetic to me, now. Pointless.

I turned my back to the river and dried myself off with the cape, but left my hair soaking wet and dripping over my eyes to look like a bright red nest sitting on top of my head. But it was the least of my worries, whence I saw the silhouette of a lone rider near the entrance to Hyrule Castle Town. The horse and its rider were still and they stood looking as though their heads were in the direction of the rising sun. But, as I mounted Che and urged him toward the outlines of my very home, I knew that this rider was not looking at the sun, nor was he looking at me. He was looking at my destination, at the broad range before him and what waited for him and for me. Neither of us knew what waited there, but he wasn't the one that was to find out. And I suddenly wished it were me as the observer, and he that were heading there.

We rode until the late afternoon, a steady pace that left both rider and horse exhausted beyond reasonable comprehension. We rested under a birch tree near the grounds of Lake Hylia, eating what food I had gathered and drinking what water we had left. I kept a steady gaze over the horizon where the wide prairie cut a fine slit between earth and sky, separating both elements immeasurably and unwontedly, searching for the lone rider as if a hawk would search for a mouse or a squirrel.

He hadn't followed, or he had and I couldn't see him. I didn't try and search for him, nor did I wait for him. An hour of rest and we continued our way past the gaping entrance to Lake Hylia where I felt tempted to stop and soak in the cool lake. There was no time, I tried to reason to myself, and continued toward the red valleys, a grimace on my lips.

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Darkness fell again when I reached my home where sand blazed a surreal blue and the tall fortress silver under the full moon that caused wolves to bay and travelers to calm. I was not a traveler, I realized. I was not a wolf, nor was I one to care for the moon. An entity of Nature or not, it controlled nothing superstitious or necessary to my soul, yet these views of mine threw me into a world where I was looked down upon and ridiculed. And to believe that this was what had led me to last night.

Astonished, I stopped the stallion. He beat the ground in annoyance.

Last night. Had it really been? I looked down at my hands. Had it happened at all? In the faint light, there was nothing to show of "last night", but I rubbed them against my dry pants, trying to rid of the feeling that crawled on my skin and on my nails and every crevice under and beneath them. It didn't work, and I took the reigns and with my heels at Che's side pressed him to trot down the lone trail up the hill.

The dirt trail led to a stone stairwell that cut through a large hill where I was greeted by five of my kind. I recognized them all, but only two did I personally care to speak with.

Mother was the first to rush to me, and then the Elder. The other three followed slowly, golden necklaces and ornate bracelets and silk dresses gleaming in the moonlight. I frowned slightly, but slid off the stallion with wary effort.

"Child!" Mother called, cold hand on my arm, "My child. How do you fare?"

I scowled at her pertaining tone. "I…"

"Child," the Elder crooned, puckered lips wrinkled and chapped in a tight, knowing scowl, "You come late this night." She lifted her hand to my stomach, but I pushed her away, liver spots and wrinkled bones for fingers and everything.

"Girl," Mother suddenly hissed, amber eyes showing her long-mustered aggravation, "How do you treat the Elder in this way? You should be ashamed of this."

"No," I whispered, "No. I am just tired. Please, let me rest."

The Elder narrowed her eyes, almost making them disappear between the wrinkled skin above them and the pink puffs below them. "Yes," she said with a croak, "Let the child rest for now. We shall speak in the morning." Her glance was not meant for me to see, but I saw the uncertainty in them when she looked at my mother, and I saw the dreadful thoughts rushing through her mind. She would plan to speak to me if I liked it or not, or she had already planned it and wasn't going to tell me until that morning in the Great Hall or somewhere else that I doubted I could escape. Because she left then, grabbing her great robes of silk and velvet to turn around, and took the three other girls with her.

The three were _his_. The Chosen Three everyone liked to call them. They had been his Chosen Three for four years, now, when he had come of age and needed a wife. He chose three. Not one. Not ten. Three. And they were very different from each other. One was very quiet and noble, another very strong and brave, and another very- well, in control. But, all three had the power to quiet a wailing baby and had very much been able to please the King of Gerudo. It was to this that they had been chosen, that they had very much become an outcast in a different way- in a very good way.

Mother left me, too, but first ordered me to place Che in the horse stall in the shooting range. I put him next to a black mare at the end- singled from the rest. Smiling, I patted Che on the head. He blinked, gazing down at me.

"Ah," I sighed, "If only I could be you for once."

I took off the blankets and saddle and reigns and brushed his soft coat, massaged his back even if I had no idea if it was helping or not, and whispered to him as I did so. He whinnied softly, and I knew I could leave, then, giving him a kiss on the bridge of his nose and ready to walk away.

"You have a way for horses, I see." The voice was rough yet soft at the same time. Intimidating yet calming. But, all the same, I knew it very well, and it sent a surge of anger throughout me.

"No," I replied, my back to him, "I have a way with my horse."

"Che? Is it?" He asked innocently, gravel crunching underfoot.

My hands became rigid against the horse's neck, and I knew he sensed it, as he pawed at the ground.

"A beautiful stallion," he said softly, "May I ride him one day?"

My teeth clenched. _No._ I wanted to scream. "The Gerudo King, Your Highness, has no need to ask."

A chuckle. He knew I was right. "Why do you not face me, Alina? Are you ashamed?"

I turned to him, shoulders rigid, gaze on anything but him. "No, I am not, Your Highness."

From the corner of my eyes, I could see him advance closer. "You may not be. But you refuse to place your eyes on me."

"Your Highness," I whispered, "I do not wish to..."

"Oh, my Alina…" He laughed, amused, and placed a hand on my shoulder. I wanted to jerk away, but his grip was firm, and I could be punished for such 'disrespect'. "You enrapture me sometimes. I wonder if it was a mistake…" He trailed off, and for a moment, I wondered if he had strayed his eyes elsewhere, reveling in old memories. But, once I looked up, I realized he was looking down at me with dark eyes, waiting.

I tried to turn away, but he stopped me, fingertips roughly pulling my chin up. "You are afraid." A statement. One that I despised.

I glared at him, and I knew that I was done with formalities. If he so badly wanted to speak with me, so be it.

"Do not be." He then whispered softly, leaning close so that his dark hair brushed my forehead and his shoulders rose over my eyes and his legs pushed mine away.

Immobile. Useless. As I had felt when so many times before- last night…four years ago…

"You took her away from me," I choked out, "You took her away and you rubbed the dirt of it into my face."

I could feel him smirking, his lips so close to mine and moving. "I had to. She was Chosen."

"I know she was."

"You understand." He placed his lips onto mine. Nothing. Cold. Hollow.

He pulled away, eyebrows furrowing.

"Are you searching for a fourth?" I asked, tone bordering monotonous but dribbling with hidden sarcasm.

He ignored the question, however, and let go of me. "You left here last night in search of your honor, Alina. Do you believe you have gained it?"

I eyed him warily. Questions swarmed inside my head, of doubts and worries and hallucinations. But, I didn't respond, and it angered him. As it were, it left, and the insincerity of his words seeped in.

"I believe there is something you are not telling me," he said, placing a hand on my cheek, "That you are not telling to your mother, or the Elder. They will be displeased."

"I have not hidden anything from them," I hissed, slapping his hand away in disdain, "And it is shameful for you to assume such a thing."

The man laughed, low and bitter, "If you want me to believe such a thing, Alina."

And then, I snapped, and blurted out, "How would you know anything, anyway? You weren't there!"

Yes. He was pleased. And he didn't respond. He didn't have to.

He backed away so that his dark skin now paled in the moonlight and his smile looked surreal against the softened sharp features of his face. I wanted to reach out to him, then, to stop him as though I had made a horrible mistake. His expression seemed to tell me so, but it was much too late. The Gerudo King had decided upon my fate, whatever it was, and I doubted any pleading from me would help its demise.

"Goodnight, Alina," he called over his shoulder as he walked away, "Tomorrow will be a day for celebration."

XxxxXxxxX

I didn't wake to see the rise of the sun over the desert hills, nor did I wake when the messenger girl came to wake me. She left my room huffing in annoyance- a trait of the chosen messengers to get their words through. It was a wonder why I hadn't ever been chosen as one. Alas, to say I slept well would be lying. I slept. But my cot could have been a rock or a large sea turtle; it wouldn't have made any more of a difference.

When the sun reached the highest in the sky, the Elder came to my door. She _never_ came to anyone's door. To hear her shuffling skirts and hobbling feet against the stone floor was something I had hoped to never even dream of. But there, she stood, in my doorway, an expectant look in her expression. I turned around and shakily gestured for her to come in. In doing so, I saw the disorganized state of my quarters, and suddenly felt ashamed.

Unmade bed, clothes on the floor, parchment strewn on the nightstand, opened books and closed books piled every direction, spilled and dried ink stains on the floor…

The Elder made a "humph" from deep inside her throat, and I blushed with embarrassment, rushing to every corner of my room to fix the mess and allow her a place to sit.

"Please, please, child," she waved a wrinkled, old hand at me, "That is not important." I dropped my old clothes from last night into a pile in the corner and rushed to aid her in sitting on my unkempt bed. She took my hand- albeit reluctantly, and then let go to straighten the folds of her loose robe- over the designs of ages past and ages to come. Of painstaking hours of nimble fingers sewing and creating and telling of generations that led to our race and continued it and cherished it and let it grow. It stopped just below her shins, where the silken material appeared as if a wide ocean with no course, but waiting to be conquered.

"If you are done staring at my robe I would like to speak."

I flushed, "Oh, I apologize. Please, Elder."

She waved it away, like she was swatting away an annoying fly, and nodded. "Yes, yes…" And then, "Do you know why I am the Elder of our society, Alina?"

It was the first time she had ever used my name, and I admitted to myself then that it sounded much more different when she said and when the King had said it. But, one thing that didn't change was the fact that I was uncomfortable with it each time. It sounded wrong, like making a horse meow like a cat. Not as ear-grating but just as uncanny. Misplaced.

"No, I do not…" I finally responded, my head down to absentmindedly fiddle with my back-length hair.

"Of course not…" She murmured, taking my hands in one of her own large, feeble ones, "But I shall tell you." And then she placed her free hand against the side of my stomach, lightly, with her cold bones shivering as if dipped in ice. I wanted to pull away, but she kept me still but squirming every now and then.

Finally, she loosened her hold, a grim expression on her features. I felt relieved just then, that maybe I had gotten away with at least half my problems. But, she hadn't let go of my hands, and when she took my right hand to inspect it, I knew there was utterly nothing I could escape from here, now, home.

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I'm so so sorry if this chapter was super boring. I just didn't feel right rushing the next main character in without a little information of Alina's Gerudo society. I promise that special someone will appear soon. And thank you all for your wonderful reviews and critiques and I hope you all stay posted and review and drop by and read and read and read. :) I'll be back soon with another update.

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	4. Silent Accusations

Disclaimer: I thought it would be proper to say that I do not own the name Galadriel, which comes from J. R. R Tolkein's novel. It seemed to fit my character's personality very well, so decided upon using. However, the character, other than the name I guess, is completely mine. :) Oh, and I don't own anything Zelda related.

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_**Lost Requiem**_

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Chapter 4: Silent Accusations

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They were staring at me the way I was supposed to be stared at: like a criminal. Like a cold-blooded killer. Even my mother had turned her back to me. No hesitation. Like the Elder when she rushed off with my hand in her death grip to the Gerudo King. She hadn't even bothered to wait for others to get out of her way; she had just _pushed_ them away. That was when they really knew something was going on. So they'd rushed after us like the place was on fire and we knew the way out of the maze. I certainly didn't, and the Elder seemed to be leading us farther inside rather than out.

Now, here I stood. A Gathering, as we liked to call it.

Gerudo women lined to each side of the Great Hall, spears in hand and other weapons concealed but at the ready. My mother stood in the back- beside the Gerudo King's throne (where he now sat), including his Chosen Three, while the Elder stood a little up front- her back to me. I wondered if they knew I existed right then, but being shunned this way even before anyone knew what one had done was a common courtesy: to save you from feeling embarrassed right from the start. But, I knew that I wasn't being shunned completely. Not entirely, anyway. The Gerudo King had his eyes on me while the Elder spoke of my crimes, so I pretended instead that no one was looking at me. _Everyone_ was, in actuality, looking at me. At every move I made, every flinch, every blink. The Elder's eyes were the only ones that weren't on me, but everyone knew she had eyes in the back of her head. She didn't miss a beat. When I finally- but anxiously dared to blow a stray strand of hair away from my eye, she twirled on her heels and pointed a strict and shaking finger at me.

I raised my shackled hands an inch, ready to defend myself. No one moved. The Elder's hand dropped, and she returned to the Gerudo King. I didn't listen to her words for the most part- just the drabble of her croaking voice that now accused me of murder of a good and decent man that had refused _me_ because of his wife (and not the other way around) so I had unhesitatingly killed him with darkness in my heart.

When there was silence, I knew she had finished. The eyes in the back of her head glared.

"Is this true, Alina?" I heard the Gerudo King ask.

I glanced at his face, anything but his eyes, and said nothing.

"Did you hear the accusations, Alina?" He said. "Or were you imagining the knife piercing into the Elder's own heart?"

A gasp.

Narrowed eyes.

Betrayal. Disgust. Anger.

"You broke into a man's house," The Gerudo King began. "But, he refused to give you what you had been searching for. In your anger and haste, you stole from him everything he owned. Including his dignity, I presume, and then…you took his very own life."

"…Because he had anything better to give…"

A hushed silence followed my words.

For those few seconds, I could hardly believe what I'd just said. I was my only defendant, and here I was, urging them with their achingly wrong accusations.

"You do not deny these claims…" Not a question.

I opened my mouth to speak, to say what I had meant to say all along. Nothing followed. My head hung down, again, trying to avoid the gazes of each and every one in the room, especially my mother's and the girl's beside her. It was too much to bear, but so had_ they_ –these people that called themselves my sisters- been too much to tolerate. There was something beyond this moment that waited, that told me to just stop and listen. I didn't want to speak and ruin that chance of changing, of freedom. I wanted things to be different, and this is what I meant to do.

"You do not." The Gerudo King answered his non-question.

With a sigh, he finished, "Take her to the prisons. I shall choose a proper punishment before dawn tomorrow."

"Your Highness," the Elder croaked suddenly, raising a quivering hand to point at me with discolored fingernails, "A proper punishment for such a crime is not difficult to decide. Murder, Your Highness, results in death for both the victim _and_ the killer. I believe it is proper…"

"_I _believe it is proper," the King interjected, eyebrows furrowed and dark eyes gleaming, "to choose wisely rather than blindly. Tomorrow at dawn, we shall resume this gathering." With a fleeting glance toward me, he walked past, careful to avoid touching me, but enough for his scent to travel toward me.

I gritted my teeth, ready to tear those eyes out. Before I could lunge out at him, two soldiers grabbed my arm, and led me kindly to a home of rusted iron bars and molding mortar and misshapen stone.

Home sweet home.

XxxxXxxxX

I couldn't stop thinking of the rider. The one that had been at the front of the moat, just staring at the horizon, at the land, at freedom. I longed to be him, just for five minutes, just enough so I could taste the sun and the flowers and the cool breeze against my flesh without the horrid thoughts of home bundled onto my shoulders. I wanted to stop seeing these faces that asked so much from me. I wanted to stop trooping after them, trying to prove myself to people that couldn't care less about anything I did well or tried to do well. Only until I did something horrid did I get the attention I had been hoping for all my life. I was merely on the wrong side, though- on a completely different road. I'd traveled the wrong way, and I couldn't find a way back.

Maybe there were others that felt the same way as me. That had such stifling obligations, that couldn't think of anything but getting to this goal which I had always used to dream of. Like the soldiers in Hyrule Castle Town. Didn't the townspeople hold obligations for them? To protect them and help them? And the Royal Family. Did they not expect for their new queen to aid their kingdom to prosperity and peace?

Bitter irony.

My life was small compared to these great people. And this prison was like the whole world to me. The rider need not fit here. What obligation did he have? He probably had so much more ahead of him. That was what he had been looking at. His life ahead of him, his hopes and dreams and desires.

We were alike more than I'd thought. We were both trying to reach for something. Him, the edge of the world itself. Me, my innocence, now.

"The best of the prisons are quite full. I hope this suffices." A deep, soft voice whispered before prison bars.

"As if you cared what suffices and doesn't." I remarked, folding my arms across my chest to keep warm. The thin, moth-holed blanket did _not _suffice for enough warmth. But I felt this was what I deserved for being a killer. Therefore, I bothered none to ask for anything.

"What would you know about what I care about and do not?" The Gerudo King asked.

"Your Highness," I added this sardonically, "If you do not care for one's feelings, I doubt you care for one's physical problems such as a dank prison that will 'suffice' to a killer."

He ignored me and, instead, asked bluntly. "Did you really kill the man, Alina?"

I sneered, finally glancing up at the face that was pressed against the bars. I looked behind him. There was no one, just his shadow that flickered and stretched along with the burning torches in the corner of the room.

"There is no one here," he said, as though he had read my thoughts, "I sent them away."

"Why?" I whispered, teeth grinding, to keep my voice quiet.

"Because," he stated matter-of-factly, "I wanted to speak with you privately."

"About what…?" And then, quickly, I added, "Your Highness?"

He gripped the iron bars as though he was readying to break them. "There is no need for formality, now, Alina."

"After what I have done, right?" I snapped, leaning my back against the cold wall.

"Alina…" He sighed sadly, "Tell me what really happened last night."

"You _heard_ what happened…"

"To believe a story the Elder told about _you_?" He chuckled, "I may not bother myself with such trivial matters such as your problems in this society, but I _do _know what happens around here."

"Really?" I mocked, "Did you know, then, how I felt when you took my only friend away and never allowed me to speak with her- or even see her unless she was hanging off your arm? You _should_ know how others treat me here. You were the one that caused it!"

You would expect for some sort of remorse, some type of regret to show, but there was none. He remained still, his eyes continuously boring into me and my soul and making me squirm unfathomably.

"I am sorry, Alina." He finally whispered.

"Do not use my name," I scowled, "It sounds like a dying cow on your tongue."

He smiled half-heartedly. "Say my name, then, Alina. Say it, and I will give you your chance of freedom."

Ludicrous. Madness. Was he out of his mind?

He laughed, and then, "Come on, Alina. Say my name. I know you have whispered it before with Galadriel."

I turned to glare at him. This was either too easy or there was something he wasn't telling me. "Why do you want me to say your name? What are you hiding?"

He shook his head lightly. "Nothing, Alina. See? It is so simple. Say my name."

"If I say your name…" I muttered, standing up slowly, "Will you stop saying mine?"

He thought for a moment. "It depends on the matter at hand. What if I need to speak with you? Call your name?"

"I am sure you can think of something," I said.

He watched me warily. "I stay by my first offer, Alina. Say my name, and I will give anything you want."

"I thought it was freedom."

He smiled, "If freedom is what you wish."

It took a few tries before I had enough courage to step toward him, but, when I did, I regretted it. Instantly.

"Or," he whispered, reaching through the bars to take hold of my arm, "Do you wish for more?"

"No," I said, pulling away, "You don't care about what I wish for. And I will _not_ say your name. You know very well I would get a lashing for saying it out loud."

He smirked, hand just barely brushing my cheek. "No one is here, Alina." He backed away from the cell, arms outstretched to his side as he glanced every which way. "See? No one."

I grimaced. "No."

"You fear saying my name more than the thought of murder- of actually _committing_ it."

"That is not true!" I suddenly exclaimed, throwing myself against the bars and flinging a hand toward the collar of well-adorned tunic. He was quick to jump away, however, and I grasped nothing but cold, night air.

"Yes, it is," he replied tauntingly. "Just as it is true that you _wish_ for the Elder's story to be the truth. Don't you, Alina? Would you like the punishment you deserve either way? An eye for an eye. I can give you that…"

"No," I whispered in frustration, hands balling into fists. "_No_."

"Then…" He stepped toward the bars again, taking hold of my lone hand and pressing it to his warm cheek. "Say my name."

"Why?"

He glanced up, dark eyes gleaming. "Because I believe I have made a horrible mistake."

"The Gerudo King has made a mistake?" I scoffed, silently itching for him to release my hand.

"Yes. I think he has." A small smile graced his lips- one that I almost believed was genuine. When it remained, I knew it was.

"And if I don't?"

"You must, Alina. Please."

"My stars did not prepare me for this," I grumbled sardonically, "and I certainly do not believe it is the way I am meant to go."

"Did they prepare you for murder?" He asked, placing my hand over his warm lips.

I hesitated, as he kissed the tip of my fingers- the very ones that had helped drive the knife into the man's heart. Did he even realize this? Had he heard any of the Elder's words? The blood on my hands was evident. Why couldn't he see that? Why couldn't _I _see it- see what he was really doing before it was too late?

"The stars control nothing but distort the minds of close-minded fools," he murmured, drawing himself closer to the iron bars- and to me. "You, of all people, should know this."

I looked away for a few seconds, at the way the moonlight slanted off the chipped stone, casting dark shadows that glided along with every single movement, as if we were the shadows, now, and the shadows were us.

Two clicks. Sudden. Loud. Echoing throughout the room. The bars were thrown aside. My wall giving away from under me. I lost balance and fell into something soft. And sharp. Arms enveloped me, held me close. The sharp metal grazed my lip, then my cheek. It was a glinting, jeweled piece of his tunic- a ruby, or an emerald. Something.

I pulled away from his chest, but still too close.

"How did you manage that?" He asked, acting again as if he _cared_.

"Your apparel does not like me," I retorted, hands on his chest to push him away.

He pulled me tighter against him and forced my chin up to inspect my lips. With one sweeping gesture, he bent down and pressed his lips to mine. Warm. Embracing. For a moment, I forgot everything. Forgot this could have very well been one of his tricks. Forgot someone could barge in and see us. It was almost like last night all over again, and everything was perfectly fine in the Gerudo world; only mine that was having troubles. Here _he _was, helping me forget, helping _me_.

The blood was coppery sweet on my tongue, mixing well with even his own tastes. I felt like we were one and the same, like we had come from same backgrounds, same exact worlds. In one sense, we had, but in another, we really hadn't. For those few sweet moments, it felt like it didn't matter and he was right there with me no matter what. That I could trust him or I couldn't was a question that hardly consisted of logic. Of course I could trust him, of course I could believe him. Why shouldn't I? He was the Gerudo King. He was…

"Kirill…" A soft whisper I had moaned by accident. A trick of the horrible mind.

"Say it again." He whispered into my ear, pressing his lips to my jaw line and biding his time as he did it, as if each kiss and nuzzle was the last.

This time, I thought it over, and I knew I wanted to say it and I knew I wanted to say it again and again- just so I could hear his voice, feel his hands, his lips…

I said it. Louder. Maybe like a growl, like a sexy concubine would when she whispered to a lover. I was not a concubine, though. I wasn't beautiful, I wasn't seductive. This man must have been lying to me, trying to make me feel like a disgusting harlot! Like one of his own women. I had sworn to myself never to become like them- like my friend, Galadriel. She had been wrong to make such a decision. For a wise girl like her, I felt ashamed in her place, and swore to the goddesses and to the moon, even, and to every creature in this world, that I would not become like her.

"Alina," he said, breaking me from my thoughts. "Alina, I can free you from the bindings of your crime."

"What?" It was a hoarse reply. Weak. Unsure.

"If you do one small deed, you will be free from the Elder's cursed stare- from all of them." One hand traveled up my back, the other cradled my head. I couldn't look away from his eyes, now.

"What do you want me to do?"

His lips brushed against mine, reminding me of the blood that welled on my lips, of the blood that had been on my hands. It continued to seep through the cut, trickle down my jaw. He hadn't helped to stop it, and it was to his gain, no doubt.

Pathetic. Weak. Outcast. And yet, his arms held me up, kept me from falling.

"I was there, Alina. I saw it happen. Everything."

My breath hitched. _Liar, cold-hearted liar_. His eyes gave away nothing, however, and I was forced to listen. _Why would you say such a thing…?_

"You were defending yourself. And I could see it, Alina. In your eyes. The frustration. The fear."

"I'm not afraid," I seethed pointlessly.

It was a losing battle I was fighting.

He continued. "I followed you because_ I_ was afraid for you. After so many years of being acquainted with you, I know enough to believe you would not handle this situation very well."

_Acquainted?_

"We had been friends for one goddess-forsaken day," I remarked vehemently. "The next day you acted as though I was nothing but a lowly servant in your way and took it upon yourself to take the only friend I ever had. As if I had done some horrible injustice to you."

"That is not the point," he snapped suddenly, loosening his hold around me.

I writhed away and wiped my bloody mouth. "Then, what is, pray tell?"

"That I know something you do not," he replied. Having caught my attention, he continued; "You were stealth enough- even of your…well, stamina- to escape from certain peril much worse than I could ever do, but one man saw your face."

"W-what?"

Had I seen it coming?

Maybe… I hadn't been careful enough.

"I would have taken care of it sooner, but my eye on you was much more important."

"I find it degrading that you care so much about me."

"You are something far more precious to me than you can imagine."

"And, so?" I said, folding my arms across my chest, "What does this man have to do with me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He questioned, cocking his head to one side and gazing at me.

I thought. "I can't return to Hyrule Castle Town, again?"

"I was going to let you free, Alina," he sighed, "But, with a bounty over your head created by this man, it will be difficult for us to continue our lives. We do not harbor murderers in this society."

"But thieves are quite ordinary, yes?"

This aggravated him. A sensitive topic I had deduced long before he had known me.

"I made a pact with the king of Hyrule when I was just a child," he said, "No crime as unjust as murder and treachery. Thievery is our way of life. Even he understood such a thing."

"A double-edged sword. Thieving against those of the same country counts as treachery."

"Wise words from a murderer whose blood still boils with sin…" His eyes were boiling, too, but with something I couldn't fathom.

I had to look away to keep from faltering. "What do you propose I do, then?"

"This man that saw you," he said slowly, as if I was suddenly a ten year-old child, "I want you to kill him."

The fact that he had followed me last night was one shocking little surprise, but what he had just said was something completely different. Didn't he just say that it wasn't in our nature any longer to kill? Or, was I hearing something completely different?

"H-how would I do that?" I finally said, "You just told me you do not harbor murderers, and now, you ask me to go and kill another!"

"Hush!" A warm hand against my mouth. "Listen, Alina. This man, he is different. He will not stop searching for you. The others- they will lose interest and forget and the treaty will remain. I need you to do this for me, Alina, for the Gerudo people, _your _people. Once you have done this, they will accept you."

"And you?" I asked, though, it was quite muffled from his hand. He realized it was there and slipped it, instead, around my neck.

Bringing me closer, he murmured, "I already have."

XxxxXxxxX

This night wasn't like any other. It wasn't like the night before, either. It was the aftermath. The silence in waiting, as a long parade for the dead passed through the hills, carrying the invisible ashes and quieting every insect and mammal in its path. Even Che had felt it, and he was uneasy as I.

Glancing up, now, maybe in some sort of consolation, I searched the stars. No. They were glaring down at me. Punishing me like when the moon had finally turned away from me, and only me. Neither would aid in a pinch of solace, now. Somehow, even in this darkness, Kirill could not help me, could not draw me out.

This had been my own doing, after all, and I felt it weigh over my shoulders like a heavy shroud that held me back. I couldn't live with this.

If I found the man that Kirill had described, the one that had seen me, maybe it would all go away. This humiliation and treachery against my own people- against all of Hyrule.

Oh, Link of Kokiri, where are you?

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AU: I am so, so, so sorry there was too much talking in this chapter. I feel like I'm letting everyone down by drawing this out. But, as you can see, she's on her way to search for Link. Something to ponder over until the next chapter. And hopefully, this cleared up a few things. Please, please, please, if there is any confusion at all, do not hesitate to ask me what you are confused on. I don't want to end this story with plot holes or readers confused because I didn't tie down any loose ends.

You may all be wondering why Kirill is taking so much sudden interest in her. It may not seem sudden because I started the story with him speaking to her, but before this, that one day Alina mentioned was the only other day he ever spoke with her. If you didn't understand, Galadriel was Alina's friend before Kirill chose her as the last addition the Chosen Three, which you will find out later in the story why they are there, and of course, of Kirill's hidden intentions. Also, Alina does not know about Link or anything else heroic about him. The timeline to this will be included later on in the story. Feel free to remind me in case you think I have forgotten information.

Which brings to this, that I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed last chapter, and all the comments and critiques. And I know there are many things to work on, such as the "if" after the "as" that AnnaMayLover mentioned. However, there are a few instances I believe it is possible to use, but believe me I will work on all of this, and anything any of you guys have to critique on because I'm trying to improve on my writing as much as I can, so don't be shy. I look forward to anything you guys have to say. Okay, anyway, until next time.


	5. Cursed Callings

_**Lost Requiem**_

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Chapter 5: Cursed Callings

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The edge of the world rolled over once, barreling down like the slosh of a wave before crashing down to merely rebound up again into a straight sea of grass and nonexistent trees. In the rising sun, it looked like the ocean creeping toward you made of shadows and stars that waved back and forth, back and forth. This was Hyrule. This was the dawn of the aftermath in continuance. A shiver up my spine easily reminded me of it.

Kirill's words mingled with the chirp of the crickets, their calling becoming too loud and obnoxious. No, I couldn't sleep, either. I was beyond worrying. I had been worrying all night- all _through _the night, leaving not one wink of sleep. It seemed this bereft necessity would have to wait much longer to become satisfied. Because, I was nowhere _near_ the end of worrying.

To kill a man- the second on my list. Would there be a third? A fourth? Would I have a witness when it happened? Would the witness be Kirill, cheering me on?

Disgust. Bile rose in my throat, but I fought it down and breathed through my teeth. Harsh. Uneven. My legs went shaky, and I was glad I wasn't on my feet, but lying on my side on a thin blanket somewhere in the middle of Hyrule Field. An open target. I hadn't realized it until I'd already built the fire. Reluctantly, I had to put it out with the only blanket I had when the dirt wasn't enough. Taking a whiff at my skin, I realized I smelt like burned fur.

No good, I sighed and sat up. The lack of sleep weighed down on me when I did, and the horrible temptation to lie back down grew. But, if I wasn't an open target now, I would be when the sun was high up in the sky, and you could paint me red and place feathers all over me and blast some horns. Yes, I would definitely be an eye-catcher.

Lake Hylia wasn't too far away, having passed the entrance on my way across the plains. I would have to go back before I went forward. And so, I packed my things, scrambled all evidence of my being there, and set off with Che.

The wind was stronger, the air chillier. Clouds rolled over the sky, rumbling softly in the distance. Rain. A thunderstorm. I would have to find shelter soon. Something I definitely hadn't expected.

I reached Lake Hylia in less than an hour, and using this luck, began to strip down to nothing- until I saw the house of the bat-eyed doctor to my right. I retied my pants and ran barefoot to the house, searching the windows. All the shudders had been shut over the windows, and when I tried quietly to budge them open, I realized they had been locked. Curiosity entailed, and I searched the perimeter.

It didn't take long for me to find the disarray of inked parchment decorating the front door. The papers had the same thing written on them, and I immediately knew _why _the old geezer had locked down his house.

_Wanted_, it read.

_Oh, boy._

Continuing below, was a rough sketch of a young woman with a heart-shaped face and wide eyes and a sharp noise. Her cheekbones were soft, but her gaze was not. Even her lips were pressed into this hard, thin line when normally, they should have been soft and plump and smiling. With her hair a disarray, like a madwoman scorned, she looked dangerous. Scary.

I felt offended. Whoever had done this sketch had represented me quite wrongly. My hair wasn't _always_ a disarray, and the only time I was ever _that _angry was when Kirill was around. Couldn't they have placed a smile there instead of a scowl?

But, of course, when a murderer was on the loose, you didn't want them to have a friendly look about them, did you? It would make them harder to decide what to do. Especially when five-thousand rupees was the prize for me dead. Ten-thousand. Alive.

_Locate Sir Link if you have any information about this criminal._

_Description: _

_Hair: Orange_

_Eyes: Black_

_Race: Gerudo_

_Sex: Female_

_Clothes: Black cloak and purple dress_

_Extra Information: Criminal is loose and very dangerous. Stay indoors if possible and leave windows shut and locked. _

I wanted to howl with laughter. Orange hair? I bit my fist to quiet the guffawing. It was, in actuality, auburn- unlike others of my _race_. My eyes were _not _black, either! They were dark brown. If this man had seen me in better light he would have figured that out. Not to mention that I hadn't been wearing a dress and my cloak was actually a dirty brown. Either way, it was better not to tempt fate. I'd have to change clothes and stop using my cloak as a means of protection from the cold- and from people. It was a good thing I had brought money with me. A trip to Hyrule Market- or someone's house, would have to do.

Just a precaution, I tore the papers off the door and balled them up into my hands. One by one, I shot them into the quietly churning water.

XxxxXxxxX

It was wrong of me to feel rejuvenated after a long soak in the lake, but it was true. I felt alive. Not like the man from the night before. He'd never feel alive, again, and my dagger in his heart would make sure of that.

I lost interest of the fleeting landscape, and instead, watched Che. His muscles flexing under the dark hide, stretching and flexing, and then stretching some more. He shook his head, hissed through his teeth. His mane brushed my hand. I relaxed and looked upward. A rising silhouette against the dark sky penetrated high above the flat plains. A barrier surrounding a house- two, maybe. A ranch, I knew. Food. Shelter. New clothes.

Then, as I drew closer, I saw it. The pieces of tearing parchments plastered to every inch of the wall. All of me. They had been warned and no doubt they would know. Still, I was desperate. I needed shelter. This storm was rolling over the hills in an angered frenzy, as if the goddesses' ferocity was finally being let loose.

I drew toward the entrance and led Che in with a trot. As I did, I tore off my cloak, untying the knot I had made with it over my waist, and stuffed it into my satchel. They were expecting orange hair, right? My hair was darker than that. My clothes were red, now, too. A tunic that wrapped at my front with wide long sleeves and a tie to keep it together. My pants were a darker shade of red- almost black. I had done a bit of redesigning on my shoes back at the lake. Using what I could to get rid of the point at the end and trying not to make it look _too _obvious. There were no Gerudo designs left on me or visible on my things. Until, I took one last glance at everything. This included my satchels. Plain. Leather. But, it weren't these that were the problem. It was Che's saddle. The Gerudo design was as plain as day. Beautiful as it was, but the winding, hard-curved design would be obvious to anyone. I'd have to ride bareback. At least, this would look less expected, and dumping everything else would be even _less _obvious.

Yeah… My eyes brightened, and quickly, I rode away from Lon Lon Ranch's gates.

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This earth wasn't meant for digging. Or planting, not to mention. No wonder this land hadn't been cultivated completely. Only certain places were possible for such growth. Now, I understood why. I would have to find another way to destroy my things. Glancing behind me, I saw the rise of trees, of branches, of dead leaves. Things that would burn. I'd have to burn everything but the clothes on my back and the weapons concealed under it.

I rode to the edge of Hyrule Field, where birch trees of plenty rose from the ground in mock achievement. Winter. The trees were dead. The branches bare. I gathered as many as my arms could hold, and then tossed them into a growing pile of dead nature. Once falling to my knees, I pulled out two silver rocks from my satchel and began the grueling task of starting a fire.

About the time the thousandth spark flew without beginnings of a fire, my arms had become exhausted. I was ready to give up, to just abandon my things and head to the ranch. What would it matter? There was no connection of me any longer in these things. They couldn't link me to it anymore as long as I wasn't in its possession.

I moved to stand, to drop the pieces of rock, when I first heard it. Of a steady rhythm of horses, of metal against metal, of a man's sword ready to be poised against a killer's neck. I dropped to all fours after a second, my heartbeat racing in my chest, ready to burst, and echoing in my ears.

They spurted up from the horizon, their last flanks edging away from the darkness of the oncoming storm. They rode past the ranch, past the hills beyond them, heading northeast. Farther from Lake Hylia and me, but closer toward the red valley. Toward my home.

The King's men, I realized. There were seven of them. And the leader, the one with the dark tunic and the golden hair. _That _one. Yes, he was there.

I'd found him. _I _had found him. But, what was he doing? What was he…? He was going to Gerudo Valley! Why? Why would I have to kill him now?! Kirill could do it! He could kill him and- and it would be the end of everything…and then… and then…

He was stopping. Just beyond the curve of the hill, so that the shadow of his form and his horse was all I could make out in the light.

The rider… I remembered the strong horse and the faceless rider. Now, I saw him. I just saw him, standing there, looking past the horizon, past me. Waiting.

They galloped away, leaving him alone. He was still for a moment, as long as his horse allowed it, until it became anxious and pawed the ground. Silence. His head moved this way and that. Searching. I ducked behind the nearest tree, my heart hammering again, my fingers trembling.

No, no, no. Not now, not now. This wasn't my chance. This wasn't my chance…

He urged his horse forward, and they galloped toward Lake Hylia. A sudden "yah!" and his mare leapt into the air effortlessly over the iron fence. They landed with such grace, such vivid ferocity and concentration and _life_, like nothing mattered anymore.

_Free, free, free_, the wind whispered back to me, as they disappeared beyond the gate.

"Free," I breathed, turning to my things with the fire already burning in my eyes.

XxxxXxxxX

I reached the entrance to Lon Lon Ranch just as the clouds let loose their boiling torment, scorching both Che and I in their fury in the form of pellet-sized drops of rain that stung my skin.

"It's okay, boy," I whispered to Che, patting his neck and edging into the ranch, "Almost out of the rain."

I entered the ranch expecting the worst- questions, worries, doubts, and even _loud _things. But, there was nothing of the sort. It was empty. No horses in the corral, no cuckoos running amuck, no _people_, not even cows!

The rain had become too loud, now, hissing and banging and booing, and drowning out all other sounds- even the faint mooing I could have sworn I heard coming from the barn. Ah, the barn. I slid off Che and led him to the shelter under the stable's protruding roof. Across was the house. Through the rain, it looked too hazy, too unreal.

I hesitated at the wooden door, shivering hand balled into a fist that was ready to pound against the wood. But, I couldn't, I couldn't make myself do it. I'd been around here before, seen the people- the girl that practically ran the place by herself. Supposedly half-Gerudo. Could I lie to a half-sister? Her kindly father? The agitated helping hand…maybe?

The rain soaked through my clothes, making the thin material stick to my skin like a second membrane. My hair matted against my face, dripping with its own drizzle over the pounding rain. Through my peripheral vision, there was a shock of lightning- a bolt across the dark sky.

I counted. _One one-thousand, two one-thousand…_

A peal of thunder that shook my brittle bones.

I shivered, and then raised my hand again. _Do it, do it._

Another shock of lighting. I counted, again.

…_Three one-thousand_. Thunder. I bit my tongue and knocked on the door.

Nothing.

They hadn't heard, or maybe they feared the worst and were hiding from the storm.

Either way, no one came and I made up my mind to forget about it. I wasn't going to steal anything for a place tonight. I'd have to find somewhere else. I still had money- I hadn't burned that with my clothes or my precious cloak. The stench of burning fur from the blanket wouldn't attract attention- but maybe burning leather would. My satchels (I had kept one, though). The saddle I'd used bushes to hide from probing eyes. It was the only thing I could really keep without it actually being on me.

Sighing, as another clangor of thunder rumbled the ground, I turned around. Only to stop quite dead in my tracks.

The first thing I had noticed was that Che wasn't where I'd left him. He was closer. That's what I had thought, but, after a second, I realized that Che hadn't moved more than an inch. His head appeared beyond the horse that was in the way. There was _another _horse in the "between" and it was pawing anxiously at the ground and shaking its mane in annoyance.

The second thing I noticed was that there was somebody _on _the horse. I didn't want to look at the person, but I knew I had to, when I felt the rider's eyes on me. What would he say? Was I doomed?

"What are you doing out here in the rain?" An accusing tone that just barely reached my ears. A hint of concern and a tinge of amusement. Very unlike what I'd been expecting. And then, the rain and the wind swirled and grew in volume. Maybe I'd imagined him saying it.

I narrowed my eyes and glanced up, teeth biting down on my tongue until I could taste the blood. Even then, however, I gasped.

_No, no, no, no…_

"Are you just going to stand there all day? You're drenched!" He asked, now impatient. The crease in his brow told me so. But, his dark eyes were still not enough to make me move.

Even _he _was drenched- his golden hair mopped down over his face, but as if he cared!

Biting my tongue didn't work and I opened my mouth to speak. "I think I might. It's such a lovely day, after all!"

For a second my sarcasm didn't register, and so he stared at me in bewilderment, eyebrows furrowed. Half his body was turned to me, one hand on the reigns of the mare. I took all this in, all the details. The sword strapped to his back, the bow and arrows, the weapons around his belt and maybe even hidden in his boots or under his tunic. Every precaution.

_Did you have to come?_ I wanted to plead to him. He didn't hear my silent pleas, nor see the tormented expression on my face. Maybe he thought it was the spilling rain that was annoying me. He didn't know it was him. Just him. He didn't know I had another dagger prepared just for him- another smaller one in my satchel at my side just in case.

Still glaring at me, he responded. "Do you have a place to stay?"

I shook my head numbly, and then rubbed my arms for emphasis. In my mind, I kicked myself. _What am I thinking?!_

"You'll have to stay somewhere else, then," he told me, hand outstretching in front of me. I stared at it bemusedly as he continued, "The ranch has been full for days now." And then, he waited expectantly.

I pulled away. "What?" I scowled, "I don't need a ride." I gestured ahead of him, toward Che. He glanced toward the barn for a split second, then turned to me again with a look of fleeting embarrassment. It disappeared, though, and through the rain that separated us, his face looked paler, hazier. It was hard, unchanging. All concern lost.

Was this the rider that I had seen just a while before?

"Then get out of here!" He barked suddenly, rearing his auburn mare around. But, before he galloped out, he returned to face me. A moment of thought, a little longer. He was pondering. I felt uncomfortable. My heart hammered like it had from earlier.

Had he recognized me?

"What's your name?" He asked.

_Oh, Din._

I hesitated, "A, uh…" My tongue rested at the top of my mouth. No, not Alina. "Um, it's—Mee-a… Mia." _Yeah…_

A penetrating gaze. Scrutinizing me. "Sir Link," he finally responded, the edge in his voice gone for the moment. "You should find a safe place to seek shelter, Mia. There's a killer loose."

For a second, I forgot to feign shock. And then, when it registered, there came a growl of thunder that shook my bones. I jumped, yelping. My anxiety wasn't helping any. "R-really?"

A smirk plastered on his face. He was smug. Being amongst an egotistical jerk like Kirill made it obvious to see this trait. Maybe they were best friends. Hah! Unlikely.

"Yes," he said, trying to control the mare that now tottered back and forth nervously. "The woman killed a man in cold blood in his very own home."

"Really?" I repeated again, but much more incredulously. Deciding to push my luck, knowingly might I add, I said, "Why was she in the house, anyway?"

He didn't notice anything off, and replied with fervor, "She is a thief- a _Gerudo_!" He said it with disgust, like he'd just smelled something bad. "He caught her in the act of stealing and would have given her anything she wanted- but she wouldn't listen and stabbed him."

_What!? _It was almost like the Elder's story! Even my own _people _decided to believe that _I _was a cold-hearted killer before even hearing my side. I wanted to open my mouth and scream at him. There was no truth in this- none at all.

Now, shaking, I asked, "But, but how…?" I couldn't finish it. For many reasons. One being that showing my curiosity this way would make me someone important in his eye, and another, that my words were already slathered in hate and fury and there was no way that I could finish it. All right, only two reasons…

He suddenly took this as my befuddled response. A weak girl standing in the rain who was too confused to do anything was probably all he saw. And nothing important, either. "I don't know how," he said, "But I do know that we _will _find her, _I _will, if it's the last thing I do. Howard was a good man."

"_Good_?!"I suddenly shrieked in horror, then quickly covered my mouth.

He furrowed his eyebrows at me, for once taking in consideration this person before him. "Is there something you are not telling me, Mia?"

I shook my head, then when I realized he wasn't buying it, stuttered for a response. "I've met him once, sir! And- and, he wasn't very friendly, is all."

He pursed his lips, and that knot in between his brows hadn't gone. I wished I could just smooth that out for a second- a second is all! But, suddenly, he was responding with indifference. It _seemed _like indifference- the way his feigned hospitality sounded past his lips. Almost like a practiced line. I guessed many loners had heard this from him. "Do you need a place to stay, Mia? My friend would be much obliged for some company." He had to raise his voice higher now to overpower the sound of the rain. It didn't seem to be working, and in all honesty, I pitied the way he had to stay out here and tell it to the one person meant to kill him in the first place. I doubted his friend would be much _obliged _now.

I shook my head, "No, thank you! I was just on my way to a- uh, a relative's."

He raised one eyebrow, but then, when I shuffled my feet through the mud that sucked at my slippers, he argued. "A relative's? Would it happen to be Malon?"

I stopped walking and stared up at him, "Oh, no! I just thought to- uh, pick up a few things, but it is quite all right…"

He nodded, impatience suddenly showing through. It wouldn't matter what I told him, now. I was merely using up his precious time.

"I must go, then," he stated, "but I'd like you to promise me to be careful. Do you promise?"

I was taken back, just a little. Maybe I had heard wrong, or maybe he just did this to everyone. _Sir _Link of Kokiri. The Hero. The son of a long line of heroes. Of course, this was his role. Of course, he'd care. Even if it was his own personal killer.

"Do you?" He repeated more urgently.

I nodded fervently. _Yes, yes, I promise... Do you?_

_You _be careful, I wanted to tell him. _You _watch your back.

Oblivious, he continued, "And, if you see her _please _report it immediately." He handed me a crumpled piece of parchment. I took it shakily, crumbling it back into my palm. Smiling one last indifferent, uncaring smirk, he galloped off.

I glanced down at the paper where the ink now ran over my hands in rivulets, staining my skin in black and in the rip of lighting, red.

_Wanted! _It read. A horrid sketch of me that had cracked in two, pieces of my eye lost and torn, my hair drooping, my nose with three nostrils, and lips that ran open two ways rather than one with teeth that screamed one thing.

_Wanted, wanted! _Peals of thunder ringing in my ears. _Monster loose! _

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Thank you all for reading and reviewing last chapter! It really makes my day to see you guys enjoying my story and everything. :) And I appreciate all the comments and critiquing. Yeah, last chapter was dialogue heavy, but necessary nonetheless. I was just afraid I'd bore everyone. Haha. Anyway, this chapter hardly has any dialogue- except the ending. Which, I hope was some sort of proper introduction. I didn't want to overdue it, after all. It's raining; imagine the hysterics Alina's going through. Haha. But, don't worry. You'll get more of Link and his oddness (the _real _Link) soon. His side of the story isn't very far away. More in the next chapter, so stay posted, yeah?


	6. Biting Salvation

_**Lost Requiem**_

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Chapter 6: Biting Salvation

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I followed him through the rain, forcing Che to gallop through the dense fog and pounding droplets of water that splattered over us like the tip of a rolling wave crashing onto shore. We were drenched, simple as that. And I was shivering. Che was working his muscles to keep warm, and I remained close to his mane to gather some heat. But, his fur was too damp and his mane was wet so that it slapped against my face with every gallop down the slippery hills.

It was darker when we reached our destination. More so, his destination. Kakariko Village. He'd forced Epona up the stairs, and I had to watch from a distance as she pulled her head back and whined. There was no anger, though, as he coaxed her up. He was patient, and soon, she gave in- slipping and stumbling. But, she made it. I knew Che wouldn't. I'd never be able to get him up those steps- no matter how patient I was, or how comforting. Che wouldn't dare. He'd have to return home, but Gerudo Valley was too far away.

I glanced behind me, toward the horizon that toiled with black, angry clouds. The bleak silhouette of Lon Lon Ranch barely stood out against the rain. It was the only place to go, though, and I knew I couldn't take him back myself.

"Che," I patted his neck and dismounted. He whinnied, shaking his mane and tossing extra water droplets into my face. I deserved it. "Che, go to Lon Lon Ranch. Go home…"

Home didn't exist, but maybe he'd understand what I meant.

I used the reigns to turn him toward the ranch before using my free hand to point the direction of the ranch. He shook his head again and pawed at the mucky ground.

"Go, boy," I ordered, sending him off just as a roaring noise cracked through the sky. Lightning lit up the clouds, creating shadows and threatening faces and angry eyes that continued to sob- harder, now. Che whinnied and trembled, pulling away from me. I lost grip of the reigns. He threw back his head and jumped into the air with two hooves flailing wildly. Frightened, he returned to the ground and bucked. I jumped out of the way, but tripped in the mud that sucked down my slippers. From the ground, rain threatening to blind me, I watched as Che bucked again, coming close to shoving his hooves into my crooked knee. I rolled away, sputtering mud and water out of my mouth.

Stumbling onto my hands and knees, I crawled toward the safe haven of a nearby tree. Its drooping branches dripped with large droplets of rainwater onto my head. But, it was safe; it was away from my wild-eyed horse. Scared like him, I waited for my heart to slow down, my hands to stop shaking.

_Pathetic_, my conscious spat out.

I grimaced, wishing my legs would stop quivering, hoping my fingers would stop twitching. I fumbled to stand up, to reach out for Che. But I couldn't. I slipped further into the mud, let it overlap my numb hands, suck down my feet. Little droplets of rain sent splashes of mini waves onto my hands and feet. The coldness mingled, freezing my hands. I could taste the freedom to pull away- the opening of light piercing the darkness. I didn't follow it.

I closed my eyes tightly, fingernails digging further into the mud until small but sharp rocks dug into my skin. I winced, but otherwise refused to move, like the world was spinning.

Lightning suddenly penetrated past my eyelids, as thunder recoiled soon after. Something gripped my shoulders hard, five points digging into each of my shoulder blades. I was shaken, but I wouldn't move. And then, sharp drops of rain permeated past my eyelids, up my mouth and nose. I felt like I was drowning. That's when I forced my eyes open- only to be blinded by the swirling of the world and something green and blue and yellow and grey and red, and flipped onto my stomach. I'd fallen onto my back somehow, I realized, as the ground heaved as I did.

At least the pressure on my shoulders had disappeared. Maybe I'd imagined them, whatever it had been, trying to shake me to life. Maybe it was me, my conscience.

But, I didn't dwell- I couldn't. Che was kicking mud and water onto me, onto the tree and the flooding river. He snorted, head kicking back, eyes wide with fright. I was surprised he was still there and hadn't run. Maybe he didn't know where to go, like me. And then, I saw the reigns that pulled him down to the earth, forcing him to quiet. Hands were attached to the reigns- white and ashen fingers and gauntleted knuckles that stretched the leather, stretched some more. Overwhelming exertion. I nearly tipped over.

I stopped myself, however, tried to stop the spinning of the sky and the leaves and the pounding of the rain that echoed around me like a drum when each drop hit the muddy grass, and stood. Using the tree as my support, I crawled upward. Like a poisonous snake. Until everything turned upright and I could see this stranger cooing unfamiliar words with foreign meanings.

Finally, when Che was calm, the stranger turned to me. His eyes were bright despite the grey around him, and when he spoke I realized there could possibly be no grey to shroud him. No, not him. Not at all.

"Are you all right?" He asked, voice hoarse and calm, but perturbed nonetheless by veiled callousness.

"I- I- he…" I couldn't speak. My lips were twitching to form the words, but I couldn't say it. My body was shaking, I realized.

I was cold.

"What?!" He furrowed his eyebrows, as if that would make him hear better words I hadn't spoken.

"He- he's frightened!" I finally blurted out just as another flash of lighting lit up the shadows in the clouds.

The stranger with the blue eyes raised his eyebrows this time, and turned to Che. He spoke to him for a few moments- just when the splitting sound of thunder echoed through the fields. It felt like it'd shattered my bones. Somehow, I pasted them back together- wobbly, but still working.

Che, eyes dark and gleaming and slightly stunned, shook his head and snorted. The man turned around to stare at me.

"He seems well!" He said, "Are you?"

Something clicked. Like a torch being lit.

"Yes," I snapped, teeth grinding together when the chattering seemed too noticeable even for me. "I'm fine."

The stranger, the rider, the knight, the hunter walked towards me, bending his knees as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and dragged Che along. The horse resisted at first, pulling backward as though to run. But, he didn't, and so, the stranger won.

He was close to me, now, maybe three feet away, but his voice was so distant. I wanted him to come closer- just so I could hear better.

"What are you doing out here?" He demanded. "I thought you would be somewhere safe by now."

What was I to do? Apologize?

I hesitated for a moment. "I was- I was coming here, but—but my horse…He didn't…I…" I trailed off.

He waited a few seconds longer to see if I was going to continue. When I didn't, he outstretched his hand. I watched it warily. What was I supposed to do? Shake his hand? Kiss it? Formalities were a little less important at the moment.

He nodded his head, as if I was supposed to do just that. But, when he reached for my arm, I realized he'd been waiting for my consent to follow him. I hadn't given any such consent. I pulled away.

"Wh-what do you think you're doing?" I remarked, stepping away.

"You need a place to stay, Mia!" He said over the roar of the wind and the rain that slapped my face. I felt numb all over.

Mia. Not Alina. Not. Alina. Mia wasn't the killer. Mia also didn't refuse help. She was also afraid of Gerudos, and she needed a place to stay. She loved meeting people…loved meeting this stranger before her.

Mia.

"Mia, do you understand me?" His nearly discolored lips said those words like they were the end of me.

I had to answer. Mia had to. She nodded. I silently did, too.

"Good, come with me…" He gently took my arm, leading me away from the tree, away from that crashing haven.

We reached the steps that led to Kakariko- the one Che did not climb. I turned to the stranger, the knight with the raging blue eyes.

"Che doesn't like the stairs!" I told him, nodding toward the stallion while my arms folded in on themselves over my chest. Leaning toward the stranger, I continued, "What will we do, now?"

For a moment, he considered this. Then, he took a step toward the stairs. Eyes flickering to me for the briefest moment, I saw a look of hushed arrogance and reverence. Another step. Blissfully unaware, Che took a step forward. I followed to the side, pushing my back into the wet wall to ward off the spattering of rain, just like I'd pushed myself into the clay wall of a building in the castle town, hiding from the stars…

And another step. The stranger was on the first step- his booted left leg lingering on the second step. Che followed. Until he reached the bottom of the first step. Down but not up, I remembered. Che would never follow.

He must have seen the doubt written all over my face for he smirked, wide and knowing through the rain. "Stop your nervousness, will you? Your horse will merely frighten more."

I gritted my teeth at this. "Fine. But I warned you. He will not go up the stairs!"

This time, he ignored me, and turned to Che, stroking with his fingers the stallion's damp fur. Whispering, again. I wanted to hear his words, wanted to hear him say them to me, just so I could calm myself down, too. But, the roll of the thunder over the dark clouds and their weeping that gushed forth like a waterfall let loose did not allow such a thing. I whimpered softly to myself and listened to the rapid beats of my heart.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

A flash of lightning.

One thump, two thump, three…

Thunder.

_Thump, thump, thump, thump…_

He was crawling at a snail's pace up the stairs. One hoof, two hooves, three…

_Thump, thump, thump…_

Ten steps…Thirteen…Next floor…

A flash of lightning, thunder rolling…

_Thump, thump, thump…_

Tail whipping in my face, climbing more stairs, up the next, up, up, one hoof, two hooves, three…

One step, two steps, I crawled after. Slowly. Warily.

Thunder rolling…More lightning…

I stumbled after them, pushing up the steps with my hands and feet. Crawling. Drenched. Frightened.

I followed after the stranger that took my horse, hoping for a home, too.

XxxxXxxxX

The stable was warm and dry, hay left to one side, dust flying in the air in angry spurts, wishing to move out of such isolation. I welcomed it. No more rain. It beat on the roof, pouring down the sides, spilling like an angry river over a cliff. We were safe. Warm.

I rubbed the dry clothes I'd been given, rubbing my hands against my arms to keep warm. My damp hair still clung to my head, my skin still slick where cold was attached but where no cold seemed to penetrate. I felt like I was burning inside. No less, I felt safe. Distanced from another world I wanted to be rid of.

Me. Mia…

"Che should be fine for the night," a voice informed me from behind, "He can dry himself out by rolling in the hay if he must." A chuckle. Too melancholy for humor.

I nodded numbly, and then shivered when a chill cracked my spine. I leaned forward to rub my feet through the leather of the too-large boots. My head spun. I shut my eyes and continued working my toes into warmth that maybe my head would let travel down my fingers like a current of fire.

"Here, something to fill your stomach."

There was bread in front of me. Suddenly, my stomach growled. I snatched it hungrily and began chewing.

"Hungry?" I finally turned to glare at the one who'd said it. His amused expression withered with the drop of his eyebrows. Blue eyes sparkling, he continued to stare back. "You look familiar."

The stale bread in my mouth turned to mush. I swallowed slowly, carefully. Looking down, picking at the bread with fumbling fingers, I replied, "R-really?"

"Yes…" He sighed, sitting next to me in the large bundle of hay that lay next to the wall of the stable. "Maybe it is because you look like Malon. Your hair and…" He trailed off.

"What?" I prodded, narrowing my eyes at him. He stiffened slightly, shoulders rigid under his too-dry tunic. I resisted leaning closer, and instead pushed against the wall as if to say just how much I was waiting for his response.

Finally, he shook his head, damp golden hair swaying with him ever so slightly. A few drops of water landed on my nose and I scrunched my eyebrows together. "Nothing, really."

"Oh…" I exhaled, eyes dropping to the way his chest rose and fell, how his arms moved as he picked the uneaten bread he held in his now un-gauntleted hands. Another wave of nausea. I resisted falling into him and straightened.

Slowly, I realized something. Something I hadn't wanted to know just this morning. Now, it hardly mattered.

"Who are you?" I said, words slurring peculiarly.

He turned to me, eyes wide and bright like the ocean during the calm after a storm. Something raged inside him, silently, furiously. It hid behind his eyes- the bright ones that stared at me now in bemusement.

I'm sorry, I wanted to say, but there was no reason to be sorry. In truth, I didn't know who he was, what he was.

I was Mia.

Finally, flushed lips moving, he said, "Link of… Link."

I pursed my lips.

Link of Hyrule. Link the Hero of Hyrule. Link. Link. Link.

I smiled half-heartedly, broken-heartedly for a girl that had no reason to be broken in half, to be confused…

And then, I realized, she did. Because she was lost. She had no home. She had no beginning.

This is your beginning, I tried to tell myself. But, I couldn't, I couldn't make myself say such a thing. This was my ending- when the beginning was already missing.

And, the in-between?

I saw the smile his lips formed, the way his hands bit into the bread, the way the muscles in his arms flexed…

I looked away, heart racing, face flushing. The in-between was _my _decision. But my decision didn't include the world reeling all over again. At least, at least it went black afterwards.

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So so so sorry for the long wait. School dislikes me. Haha. Hope you guys liked. And thank you all for the reviews and I hope you continue to read and review because I love to hear what you guys think! Anywayz, stay posted!


	7. Reasons and Explanations

_**Lost Requiem**_

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Chapter 7: Reasons and Explanations

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I woke up feeling more or less like the world had just crashed down upon my head, leaving me dizzy, nauseous, disoriented, and utterly lost. I'd dreamed of nothing but falling, of rain on my face, dripping down my eyelids and cheeks, of being swallowed up by the earth itself. I woke up sweating and panting, ready to throw back the dream I'd been fed. When a hand pushed me back down I thought the world was really trying to take me back with its cold fingers. Then I heard a soft hush and a rustle and someone smoothing down my hair. I took hold of the hand and placed it against my cheek, wondering if this was real or just another bad dream.

The soft whispers continued and I let the fingertips graze my neck, feel the perspiration on my collarbone. I breathed in the scent of hay and horses and sunrise through the cracks of the wood paneling of the stable. Closing my eyes I could feel the heat on my legs, traveling up to my waist. The hand slipped from mine and the stable door creaked open. Cold air whooshed past my feet and I breathed a sigh of relief, of despair finally settling. My stomach grumbled then, and I cracked my eyes open into slits, searching- despite my mind that told me to sleep some more- for food, for some that had been in his hands just before I'd slipped down into nothingness.

He returned a few minutes later, when the sun was really rising, and not just preparing to cower behind some unsuspecting clouds. There was a bucket in both of his hands- one gray and dented and the other made of wood with a rag peering over the edge. All thoughts of humiliating myself had long since taken their leave, so when he neared me I craned my neck to the side, sending him a wondering look I hoped he would understand. He smirked the slightest, setting the wooden bucket down next to me. A droplet of water landed on my bottom lip. I scowled and tried to peer into the other bucket he held.

He shrugged his shoulders and gestured toward the bucket. "Are you so hungry you would eat your horse's breakfast?"

I cringed, being plain to show my irritation toward him. Sardonically, I remarked, "Apparently not."

He laughed quietly, walking toward the third stall from the exit where Che whinnied and shook his mane. The blonde patted the stallion's neck, calming him as he reached over on the tip of his boots to place the feeder in its proper place.

"After what he was put through last night," he mused, voice slightly muffled since his back was still to me. When he finally turned around he finished, eyes landing on me expectantly, "Well, I wouldn't be surprised if he took the food right out of my hands."

"I wouldn't be surprised either," I grumbled, achingly rolling onto my side and wrapping my arms around my abdomen.

His footsteps echoed in the stable above the sound of Che's hungry eating and birds' soft chirping. I tensed the slightest, ready for something- anything. A blade to my neck, an accusation, an arrest, a dagger in my back. Nothing. But a cold rag to my forehead. His fingers had warmed and he pressed them onto my shoulder lightly, pulling me onto my back again.

"The sky is upward. If the ground can't hold you the heavens will." I looked into his eyes. "Do you feel nauseous?"

"No." Not anymore, at least.

His gaze was pensive for a moment, and for that moment I had the feeling he wasn't really paying attention to the sallow color of my skin or the sweat dotting my upper lip.

Then, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

A hoarse whisper. "Yes."

He smiled, and my eyes traveled from his blue eyes to his lips. "Very hungry?"

"Yes." I began to laugh, but it was cut short with a horrible scratch in my throat that had me on my side coughing and convulsing. When it was over I laid back down on the hay that stuck to my back and arms and neck. A hand reached out and pecked a few straws from my hair. I swatted it away instinctively, wishing for space.

He apologized, then kneeled down from his squat to gather the fallen rag from the floor. A lock of hair fell onto his eyes and I reached over to brush it away just as he did. He took my hand, though, and placed it down gently.

"Mia," he cajoled quietly.

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "I- I couldn't see my sky anymore."

He didn't respond; it seemed that he couldn't. Silently, he washed the rag and replaced it onto my forehead. His silence then was enough, and I embraced it when he announced he would return with my breakfast. The stable door squeaked and wheezed after his leave, echoing obscenely in the quiet room. Even Che seemed to relish the quiet.

Outside there were chickens clucking and villagers waking. There was a neigh of a horse and the pounding of horse hooves against dirt. I edged toward the stable wall, rolling onto my side, and peering through the wood paneling. There was his horse, pawing the ground, content with the food that he had left her. But, there was another horse. A white one that had slowed to a trot. I recognized the Hyrulean insignia on the saddle, but the rider and his face was obscured. A few seconds the stallion idled, and I realized this because he was approaching. The horse edged forward and I saw the rider: a soldier. A _Hylian _soldier. He took off his helmet, revealing a brown-haired pale man with beady eyes. Instinctively, I crouched low into the hay, pressing my cheeks and crunching my nose into the wood to see better the outside.

I couldn't hear them well, however, as they began to converse. The soldier looked confused and excited at the same time. There was a discolored satchel in his hand. He held it up to the blonde, lips moving a mile each minute that passed. Cautiously, he took the satchel from his hand and scrutinized it. Then, he opened it and pulled out a torn and singed rag. I recognized the violet hue and seared golden rims. My clothes.

And, as if merely to worsen my luck, the soldier turned to his horse and untied something from the saddle. The blonde didn't stay to see what it was, and instead walked toward Epona. He was close enough so that I could hear his boots crunching the dry grass, his breath in the chilly air stirring the fallen leaves. He led Epona closer to the stable wall, and I finally realized the reason when she began to lap at the water basin nearby.

"Sir, wait- see!" The soldier called to him, running now toward them. I gasped and covered my mouth.

"What is it?" He remarked impatiently, turning around so that I could see the both of them clearly.

"This, here…" The soldier handed him a beaten saddle worn from all the four elements- particularly fire.

"Where did you find these again?" He asked, taking the saddle and inspecting it much like he had the satchel. There was a sort of carelessness as he did it, as if it was nothing more than a flower he had trampled over and maybe reconsidered for a second to none.

"By Lake Hylia, sir, to the west." The soldier was turning red. I wondered if he would begin to hyperventilate soon.

He grunted once, nodding, then tossed the saddle to the ground- directly in front of me. If I wedged my fingers through the paneling I would probably be able to touch it, the Gerudo design, the cracking leather pieces. I resisted, and glanced back up at the two. "So, you believe that the murderer is still running. Where do you believe she will go next, exactly?"

"We- uh…We believe she will be heading north, sir- toward the forest." The soldier replied, eyes swaying back and forth- anything rather than him.

His lips quirked into this small smile for a mere second, and his eyes glanced toward me, as if he could see me through the stable walls and right through me. Then, he looked away and leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest for good measure.

"Toward the forest, I see," he mused, "Well, I believe you should be on your way."

The soldier hesitated for a moment, taking a step back then stopping and glancing up at him frightfully. "S-sir?"

"Hmm?" Irritated.

"I-I didn't want to have to ask you this, b-but the commander dem-demanded…"

"What?" He shuffled slightly, dropping his hands to his side for a few short seconds before pushing from the wall. I could have touched his hand, too.

"He would like to know if you have seen her?" The soldier seemed ready to cower away and run, but miraculously he stood still, as if just by reiterating the commander's question he had gained some sort of strength to grasp onto until the war was over. "He said while he w-was in Hyrule Fields he noticed you heading toward Lon Lon Ranch."

"What did the Gerudos say?" He ignored him and asked instead, impatiently, it seemed.

The soldier was caught off guard, but replied nonetheless; "The King of the Gerudos, uh, King Kirill, said he had no knowledge of the incident."

My heart nearly stopped.

"_Incident_? It is more than an incident." Disgust raged under his tone.

"Y-yes, well, the king said sometimes these things happen…"

"What?"

"Sometimes some of them will leave and not return…"

"That's absurd. He shouldn't allow it."

"He says it is not his place, sir."

"Then maybe it is ours." He muttered. "Is that all?"

The soldier hesitated again, then bowed. "Y-yes, sir."

Once the soldier took his leave he picked up the burnt items and headed toward the stable door. I rolled onto my back again and slapped the rag to my forehead, feigning relaxation and nausea. Truth was, it didn't feel like the world was spinning anymore.

The stable door creaked open and I held my breath. Footsteps, chains clinking.

"You don't have to feign sleep for me," he leered coolly- almost on the verge of something frightfully cold, as something clanked to the floor. My satchel and Che's saddle, actually. I glimpsed at them, hopefully, surreptitiously enough that he didn't notice.

"I was relaxing my eyes," I said, letting out a breath I'd been waiting to let go.

"Are you a Gerudo, Mia?" He asked suddenly.

My eyes shot open and I glared up at him. "Excuse me?"

His gaze didn't falter as he clarified. "Are you?"

With a deep breath, I responded, "Yes." And then, quickly, I added, "From Termina."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "The pirates?"

I nodded the slightest, reminding myself to remain collected. "They allowed me to leave when I was younger- thirteen, I believe. No one will remember me, really."

"And why do you say that?" He inquired, raising a brow.

I shuffled under his gaze, looking away. "I was…less desired than others. I spent too much of my time on land, anyhow. They said I could join the Gerudo of the Valleys. So, I came here."

How perfect it seemed, creating this entire storyline like I was knitting an afghan for the cold winter.

"You were at Lon Lon Ranch."

"I was." I muttered. And there was that snag. "I…" I sighed. "I lost my nerve."

"After so many years of traveling?"

"Yes," I glanced at him in irritation. Who was he to judge me, anyhow? "I thought I would return another day."

"And why not today?" He suggested, smiling.

I stared up at him in horror, mouth gaping. "W-what? Why?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "Why not?"

I bounced up, tossing the horse blanket long since tangled at my feet. "B-because—because…!"

He stepped forward, so that if I hadn't known before that he was at least a head taller than me I did now. "Give me one plausible reason, Mia."

For those first few seconds I just glared at him, lips curled up into a sneer I had no recollection of holding until I began to speak. "W-well…there are many reasons!"

He smirked, "One. Just one."

I faltered for a moment- whether it was the heat rushing to my face or the stable door creaking open or the sound of the horses neighing or the wave of nausea passing through me I wasn't sure.

"Sir?" An elderly woman stumbled through the doorway. When she saw me her eyebrows furrowed. "Well, look who has decided to wake."

I stood back on my heels, realizing then that I'd been leaning forward, and cleared my throat. "Y-yes, madam."

"Well?" She eyed me in irritation, "Wash up and head inside. I don't wait on guests." And she disappeared from the doorway, for once allowing the light of the sun to touch the wooden flooring.

Then, he returned to me, that small, cruel smile still on his lips. He gestured to the exit, "You have about five minutes, I assume. I'll be waiting for your reasons, too."

I scowled at him- almost out of habit for being annoyed in such a way. "You can wait as long as you like. And it was one reason- not two."

"One, then. In the meanwhile," he turned to walk away, eyes as mischievous as Kirill's the night he'd told me of everything I'd feared, "We can visit the Gerudo tribe. I'm sure they miss me as much as they will be glad to see you- a new member." And, undeniably, as he disappeared across the threshold with not even another glimpse behind him, I felt that same, horribly familiar fear creep back into my gut, exposing once and for all what and who I feared most. If I dared to, I'd run. But running meant cowardice, and for some despicable, pitiful reason, I didn't- I wouldn't. This was reason number one.

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Ahh, I'm so so so sorry for the long wait. School has been just eating me up, and not only that but I've just been way too busy with my original works that I sort of left this on its own, gathering some dust, too. I hope you guys liked this chapter; I'm sorry it's probably not worth the wait but lack of writing inspiration drew me to this. Please tell me what you guys think and please stay posted! I'll try and have the next chapter up soon! And thank you all who read and reviewed the last chapter- you guys don't know how much it means to me!

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	8. Bound and Gagged

**_Lost Requiem_**

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Chapter 8: Bound and Gagged

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We sat there quietly, awkward in the background of the effervescing fire and the whispering wind outside and the cackling cuckoos eating their own breakfast. Oh so suddenly, I wasn't very hungry. I glanced at him through the corner of my eyes, through my lashes, wondering just what he was thinking. But, his eyes betrayed nothing, and I reminded myself mine couldn't either.

By the time he had finished eating, my plate was still half full. I turned toward the closed entrance door, hoping the lady that ran the small inn wouldn't barge in here and demand I finish my food.

He must have seen my worried glances, and asked, "Is everything all right?"

I cleared my throat. "Everything is wonderful. Why do you ask?"

He shook his head quickly, as if embarrassed to have even thought of the question. "No reason. I was simply curious."

"All right."

"All right…"

"You aren't hungry," he stated quietly.

"No, would you…?" I pushed the plate toward him, hoping he was still hungry for eggs and bread.

"No, thank you…"

I pulled the plate back dejectedly.

"You should eat to regain your strength." It seemed an innocent enough thing to say, but then I thought of what he had said earlier, of visiting the Gerudos- my tribe.

"I have strength," I told him, scowling.

"Really?" He quirked an eyebrow, eyes scrutinizing me.

I straightened my back and nodded, "Yes. Care to ask that again?"

He laughed wryly, "Yes, actually. Would you like to test your strength?"

"Pardon?"

He pushed his seat away and stood before walking around the table and pulling mine away as well.

"Let us test your strength and see just how well you are, shall we?" He didn't look at me further as he walked toward the door and grabbed his sword and shield and other weaponry.

I remembered I only had a dagger hidden under my clothes, and it was very crucial that _he_, of all people, did not know that.

"I have no sword," I told him, following him out the inn.

"Not a problem," he said, turning around on his heels so suddenly that I was forced to stop before I could ram into his chest. "I just so happen to have a friend that owns an extra sword. I am sure she wouldn't mind your borrowing of it for the day."

I hesitated meeting his gaze, and when I did I saw the gleam in his eyes, as if he was just so positive that this trick of his would prove my weakness.

I set my chin. "That would be…gracious of her."

He grinned dryly- or maybe in utter amusement, and said, "Very much so."

For a moment, or maybe longer, we stood there, staring the other down as if waiting for one of us to break. I could feel the heat emanating from him, and the gaze in which he watched me so pensively. Was it to anger me? Was it to force the truth from my lips?

I didn't pass so much as a blink, and when he finally smiled I could feel my chest falling with relief.

"My friend lives on the other side of the village," he said, turning around to lead the way, "Ever since the princess persuaded her that she needn't a constant watcher she has been staying here most of the weeks. The village people have been very grateful for her stay."

Natural curiosity overwhelmed me. "Who is she?"

He glanced over his shoulder, smiling, "The founder of the village, Impa."

We bounded past the dirt roads and past the entrance, watching absentmindedly as children ran past with sticks and strings in their hands. Some smiled at us and waved, others ran fearfully away. I smiled in slight amusement, but then hid it quickly when Link glanced over his shoulder. What did he need to know of my weaknesses, anyhow?

I could feel the dagger against my thigh and for some reason it seemed cold against my skin. I placed my hand over it for a few seconds when we climbed a set of stone steps at the edge of the village where the rock walls that separated the forest from the village rose high into the sky. When the blonde glimpsed at me, probably to see if I was following, I had already dropped my hand to my side.

The house was two-stories tall, with wooden shutters and a cracking clay exterior that had been fixed and broken and fixed again at least a dozen times over the last dozen generations. The roof, from what I could see, had probably taken an even worse beating, but had somehow sustained the wind and the snow and the rain from the mountains with each bit of strength that these villagers seemed to carry with them over the years.

Link knocked on the door three times, and in three seconds' time it flung open. A woman with silver hair and red eyes stood in the doorway. She was muscularly built, more so than any elder Gerudo woman I had ever known, with skin much paler as well. She smiled broadly at Link, and before he could prepare, embraced him tightly.

"Link, boy!" She accentuated her words with a lilting accent. "It is so good to see you!"

"You, too, Impa," he said after she had finally let him free.

Her eyes finally traveled toward me so that her lips formed a small grimace. "And who is this?" She made her tone as polite as possible.

I smiled and bowed slightly, responding before Link could, "Mia of… o-..." And then I realized my mistake.

As I hesitated Link jumped in, "-of Termina. She has traveled a long way to Hyrule."

"A Gerudo?" Impa inquired, raising a silver brow.

"Yes," Link said, placing a hand lightly on my arm to guide me forward. I resisted for a moment, but under the woman's stare I couldn't quite oppose for long. "She is from the pirate's den."

I ignored his sardonic tone.

"Ah," she smiled now, but I could still see the wariness in her eyes as she led us in, "Well, then, welcome, Mia of Termina. How are you enjoying Hyrule?"

"It-…" I glanced at Link, but he gave no indication of acknowledgement. "It's extraordinary."

Impa seemed pleased with the answer, and offered us a seat at the wooden table across a staircase that led high into the second story.

"And what have you come here for, Link?" Impa asked, "I know it isn't simply to drop by, or is it to- uh," she glanced at me, "to report an upcoming engagement?"

Link furrowed his eyes in bemusement. I looked away, hoping my face hadn't flushed for any reason.

"No, actually," Link continued slowly, as if in his head he was still trying to understand what she was trying to say.

"Oh, well, then," her face brightened considerably. She was content with the response- no, more than content. Utterly pleased. "What is it?"

"Mia is in need of a sword," he replied, "She…" He trailed off, turning to me to wait for an answer.

"I lost mine," I continued hurriedly, "In the forest. Most of my things were lost."

"How?" Impa inquired, leaning into her chair and folding her arms.

"I-I fell asleep one night exhausted. When I woke my satchel was missing. Food, weapons, clothes…"

"And your horse?"

Here was the snag in my story.

I shrugged, feigning confusion. "He was still there." I raised a brow at her and then crinkled my nose. "Why do you think that happened?"

She shook her head, "I have sensibly no thought to the reason."

"Maybe the robber already had a horse," Link offered.

"But, why not take mine and sell him?" I asked, suddenly finding myself to enjoy this charade I was pulling.

And then, it came to me- this perfect plan, this perfect charade of creating someone that didn't and now _did _exist, because this robber who had taken my things was none other than my old self- pitiful, miserable Alina. And now she was gone with my things, not having taken Che because where she had to go was not far and this place had no beings there, no one that needed a horse or had any money to give or to take. Simply nothing.

"Perhaps this could be related to the murder…?" Impa turned to Link, trailing as she did as if prepared for him to interrupt her.

He did. "It's possible." Then, catching me off guard, he asked me, "When were your things stolen?"

"Uh, I, um," I shook my head, less for emphasis and more of silly, stupid bewilderment. The night of the murder. No- the night before the murder. Odd to think it had happened only four nights ago. "It was about a week ago."

"Be more specific," Impa demanded.

I blinked a few times, thinking. "Five, six nights ago- six, I think."

"Hmm," Link sat for a moment, possibly contemplating the information I had given him.

"Anyway," Impa finally broke the silence and turned to me and said, "I shall get you a sword. Excuse me, you two."

She stood up and left quickly, not before glimpsing the both of us in mild curiosity. Her armor clinked as she moved about somewhere in the back of the house.

"I never knew you were robbed," he said, and when I glanced at him he wasn't staring at me, "Were you hurt?" His voice had lowered.

"Pardon me?" I queried, trying to keep my voice low as well.

"Were you hurt?" He repeated this with more ferocity; though when I looked at him again he was calm, his shoulders, however, were slightly tenser. "Was the thief a man? A woman?"

I furrowed my eyebrows now, "I don't know. I was asleep, like I told you and Impa."

He craned his neck so he could face me. When he stared at me, I wondered if he was hiding something from me, and then I feared he knew I was hiding something from him. So I simply stared back.

I hated playing this weird game.

"Did anything happen? Did you wake…?" He continued to ask.

"No," I whispered back, interrupting him before he could continue with his ridiculous questions. "And if something _had _happened, I would have very well been capable of defending myself. I _am _a Gerudo."

"Really?" He asked, his expression lighting all of a sudden to wonder, "Then, how is it that someone so able to defend herself did not wake at the sound of an intruder in her midst?"

For a moment I sat there, feeling my adrenaline rush because of his words. I was silently seething.

Seeing his waiting expression forced me to compose myself. Yes, Mia was angry at him because of the insult, and although Alina would have had him writhing in agony on the floor in the very next second, I, Mia, would do no such thing. I tried to tell myself this a thousand more times in the sparse amount of time I comprised to respond to him.

"Maybe," I began, "This thief was just as stealthy as I- perhaps stealthier."

"A Gerudo admitting her incompetence, what a change," Impa called from where she continued to rummage through this and that drawer, under a table, behind shelves of books.

"Yes," Link drawled, smirking.

I looked away, "I suppose you can see as to why I left Termina."

"The Gerudo women of the Valley will not treat you any differently," Impa said before making a claim of praise, lifting something in the air that glinted of silver in the daylight coming through the windows.

"Worse," Link reprimanded, "And the king? His women believe he is the god of the heavens."

I narrowed my eyes at him, tone that bordered a frustration too close of personal, "Not all of them?"

He smiled lightly, off-handedly replying, "Quite believably, yes. They look up to him and only him. If he told them to slit their own wrists they would do just that."

"Link," Impa said, making me jump slightly from the chair. I hadn't seen her reach the table. "Don't exaggerate so."

Link rolled his eyes when she wasn't looking.

"Mia, my first sword." Her outstretched hands held the glinting blade in raised glory. I took it from her hands and held it to the light, inspecting it, falling in love with it.

"It is perfect," I breathed almost giddily, "Thank you, Impa…" and then I felt the guilt grow in my stomach. "But, I cannot take this."

She furrowed her eyebrows, "Nonsense. Besides…" She smirked, "It is merely borrowing. As if I would give you such a precious sword…"

I laughed, "All right, then. I take it back. Thank you."

"Your welcome." She turned to Link, raising one brow again in little amusement. "Do you not have work to do, Link?"

He stood up quickly. "Oh, yes. Come, Mia."

I followed him out the door, just as Impa winked at me. Nervously, I smiled and stepped past the threshold, the sword in my hand. That alone, however, did not prepare me for the cold metal that touched my neck.

"What is this?" It was Link, growling. I didn't see him, though, as the sword's hilt was yanked from my hands.

"Hey!" I snapped, but the blade pressed harder into my skin.

From the corner of my eyes I could see the silhouette of at least half a dozen soldiers, their faces covered by their helmets. Two others stood behind me: one with the sword at my neck and the other as he tied my hands behind my back. I didn't resist, as Link stepped toward me.

"We have orders to arrest her, sir," the soldier behind me responded, his voice just slightly quavering as Link approached. The blonde glanced at me, eyes narrowed into slits. I held them for a second before looking away.

"On what charges?"

The same soldier sneered, "I believe they are quite obvious reasons, sir, and you should know this as well. Harboring a criminal is also punishable. Either come with us willingly, Sir Link, or we _will _use force."

Link laughed, as if the entire idea was ridiculous to him. And maybe it was, but I didn't laugh- not with the sharp object pointed at my throat. But, once his laughter died, the sword was raised from my neck and replaced with the soldiers' grip on my arms.

They pulled me away, past the soldiers that glared with their shielded eyes, as if they were afraid I would see them and condemn them. They didn't know that I already had.

"Sir?" I heard the soldier speak.

Link growled in annoyance under his breath. "You would actually believe I would harbor a _murderer_?"

There was a small chuckle, but no reply.

Glancing behind me quickly, I saw Link following. I could tell by the soldiers' gait that they were pleased. He was helpless at this point, and at once I realized there was no difference between he and I.

We were both simply bound.

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Thank you to all who read and reviewed last chapter and thank you for dropping by again after the long wait. Hope you guys had a Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays, and a Happy New Year. See you guys next year, and don't forget to review. Haha.


	9. Saving Deliverance

**_Lost Requiem_**

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Chapter 9: Saving Deliverance

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The day passed slowly, as if in this state of imprisonment the day had halted with my freedom. As if it, too, waited to be released. I glanced at the clouds which shadowed the sun that, in its vast glory, hung above us pathetically like the arc of the goddesses' own watchful gaze; because, in their parade of self indulgence and pride of false self-sufficient sacrifice, raised not one hand nor parted one word of command. I loathed them for this. And, in my loathing, I began to loathe all else, and regretted to have believed in harsh promises of ever seeing my life again as something as my own.

I remembered Kirill, his words, his face, his lips. I tried to capture everything there was to recapture, every moment I had unexpectedly gained. But there was something missing in them, and maybe it was the false hope that had finally been shattered, the one he had given me and the one I had first promised myself to keep always. It hadn't been the soldiers that had ruined this for me, hadn't broken the pieces; they had simply stepped on them, ripped their feet and bloodied the ground with it.

It was him, the rider, the hero, the man beside me. He had shattered my dream, and I loathed him, too, for all the wrong reasons- ones I could no longer see myself in, for he was there, always there, always hurting my chances. (Behind him stood the man I had killed, the dagger in his hand.)

In the blue of the sky I saw Link's eyes, captured in an ethereal ferocity that blurred my thoughts. For a moment I thought of him and only him. In it I saw the way he had spoken to his fellow soldiers, the way he had spoken to Mia, the way he searched and searched and found no escape, no form of liberation across the fields in which he continued to roam.

Nothing, until he had found me there. And, what was I? Would I be his key, or the one that hid it from him, disparaging him again and again? Too late, was it, for he had been caught as well, and he was the one forever at my mercy…?

The silence of the market drummed in my ears, in rhythm with my pounding heart and the hearts of the hundreds of men, women, and children that watched us as we passed. They cleared a path for us, silently stepping away, shuffling, and it in itself was a drowning noise pounding in the air. A grim path to the gallows.

The princess did not want to see me when we had reached the castle, but Link was taken away quickly. His shackles became pieces of rusting metal at his feet, and he was pushed inside the throne room with more than half of the soldiers that had led us here. The other three led me down into the castle, deeper and deeper into the creature's lair. I let them lead me here, so easily. One step and another. The muck and the grime stuck to the soles of my boots, as if sucking me into the earth itself.

And how easily had I allowed them to shackle me to the very wall that many had already died beside. How erect and proud they had stood, their spines arched in agonizing pain, their hands broadened to the sculpting and shape of their iron markings.

I lay against my wall; shoulders drooped, hands hanging uselessly above my head. Listening to the pitter patter of old rain and the scurrying of little furry feet… An hour passed, maybe three, or five…

My neck and arms and legs were sore by the time the dungeon door swung open, the jingle of keys echoing down the dark corridor that was the dungeon itself. Light spilled into the room, lighting the dewy stone archways and the muddy floor. I winced from the halo that became the visitor's head.

His voice was soft, gentle, however, and it stirred something else inside me. And then I realized how familiar this voice had become. And so tempting.

But I didn't move, didn't raise my head. I felt, somewhere inside me, betrayed. That he would leave me here to suffer, while he went alone to the princess. I couldn't tell him, however, that it didn't matter how much I'd suffered. I had felt no different here than I had before. For, both ways I'd been trapped, and I was still trapped.

He undid the shackles, and as the last one fell, I nearly fell as well. Before he could take hold of me, I pushed him away and hobbled to my feet. As he watched me, I thought of something to say, but there was nothing I _could _say. It was _he _that should speak first, and not I.

Silently, he led me up the long, winding staircase. Its grime continued to stick to my boots as we reached the stone corridor lit with nothing but the torch the soldier ahead of us held. He led us again, up higher and higher into the castle, but I felt as though I were the only one that was following, and even Link knew where we were going.

And, finally, when the lack of food and water began to weigh on me, we had reached a door. Simple, small, in a deserted hall that consisted of only Link and I. The soldier had given Link a look that could only mean refusal to obey any longer. Maybe the farther up one went, the easier it became to avoid order. For, even the floor was no longer even, nor the ceiling above, and the stone walls were chipped, and the door before us seemed weathered and beaten.

Link pushed it open, turning the brass doorknob that stood in one piece and shined the very slightest.

The room beyond the door was simple. It was as large as half the room in the inn, with a cot fit for one shoved into one corner, a simple wooden dresser in the other with a ceramic basin sitting on top, and a cracked mirror to the side. Across from the door from which we'd come was a small window in which the evening sky gleamed. It was much too small for a curtain to be placed over it.

Link suddenly cleared his throat. "You have been promised a place to sleep for the night."

Turning to him, I asked. "What is happening?" Then, hesitating, I added, "What have I done?"

He looked away, toward the window. "Nothing, Mia. Simply rest. Someone should be here to…"

"Answer me, Link." But my demands did not seem to bother him, and he made his way toward the door. Before he could part, I jumped in his way, shutting the door, and leaned against it.

He groaned in annoyance. "Mia, please."

"Do you understand what I am saying?" I remarked. "I have been chained to a musty old wall for nearly the entirety of a day, and yet you offer no explanation? What is happening?"

For a moment I feared he would see through my deception, but no, he needn't to have seen anything. My questions were mere questions. And when he shook his head, I saw the smile forming on his lips. It was bitter.

"You are…." He trailed off, and when he noticed my puzzled expression, he began again. "You are a murderer, Mia." His eyes showed no grief, no difficulty in believing this. "And yet you care to act so naïve? You must be very pleased with yourself to have gotten so far, and in thinking you could have fooled me."

I had…for a while. I wanted to say.

"I don't know what you are speaking of," I whispered fiercely. "I have not killed anyone."

But his patience had dwindled, and suddenly he was furious. "I was there, Mia! I saw you! Now, how do you believe I would have allowed you to get away so quickly?" I could not find a response, and as he continued, I felt my heart beating faster and faster, like a rabbit caught in a snare. "I watched as you disappeared into the Valley, and I followed you…" My eyes widened, and my mouth felt dry. I felt delirious, angry at him, at myself.

He had _followed _me.

"I waited for you to step out from the fortress." He said, and with every few words he stepped closer to me… "Until one night, I found you again, galloping away so fast, as if there was a ghost chasing you out… Perhaps that poor man's ghost…" Until he was a mere few inches away, his hands pressed against the door, trapping me in front of him.

When I found my voice, it was hoarse, weary. "Do not feel sympathy for that pig of a man. He was scum. You know just as well as I that I was doing everyone a favor, something all of you had wished to do but could not."

He growled, "Murder is inexcusable, no matter who it was you had _killed_, Mia."

"Then," I snapped venomously, "I suppose killing me is inexcusable as well. But if the murderer is the princess…"

"This is not the same, and you are very aware of that." He interjected, whispering into my ear.

I pushed him away, sickened by the thought that he would, after all, rather have that sick man alive and I dead. "Stay away from me, you fool… If you know what is best for you."

"Do you think I am afraid of you?" He mocked, stepping away.

"You should be," I remarked, but I knew he would not believe me anymore, of anything I said. And I didn't want to believe myself, either, because I could no longer be near him when I wanted so strongly to run my hands through his hair, to feel his skin and his lips. His anger seeped through my own veins, now, and I knew that despite how much he hated me now, I could not hate him, could not judge him for what he thought was worthy, or right and wrong.

"Mia," I finally heard him say. "There will be a trial tomorrow, to determine your innocence."

I stepped toward him. "You already know I will be guilty."

"You are allowed to defend…"

"I am guilty!" I exclaimed, "Even _I _know this! Will you let me die, Link? Even though I have lied to you about everything?" And then, slowly, I reached for my dagger, the one pressed against my thigh, the one hidden because of the skirt I wore. He watched as I unsheathed it. It drew a thin line of red against my skin. It trailed around my knee, warm, comforting, as if still reminding me that, yes, I was still alive. Breathing.

I tossed the sword onto the cot. And I knew he recognized the hilt. It was identical to the one he kept with him, the one that had remained in the chest of the man I'd killed.

Yes, I was very guilty.

"Mia…"

"My name is Alina, Link." I murmured softly. "Call me Alina."

I thought of dragging the blade through his heart, of ending it here. But I realized, what would it matter, now? There would be nothing but misery. No, I could not live with myself. I wanted him, I knew.

I wanted him so much.

"Link…" And I stopped caring of what would happen next, and pressed my lips to his, because it wouldn't matter any longer. Of what I did now, or what I had done then. Because I'd die either way. If I was guilty or innocent, or if I escaped, or if I killed him or didn't. I'd die because I'd killed another man, and I'd kill myself because of it.

I held him close, reveling in the heat of his body, the feel of him against me, and ran my hand through his hair, the other resting at the base of his neck. He hesitated at first, pushed me away, shock in his eyes.

I brushed my thumb over his lip. "Will you stop me?"

He thought for a moment, unmoving, but still hovering over me, eyes now pensive.

I waited.

And then, slowly, he uttered. "No, Alina."

And he pressed his lips to mine, placing his hands to the sides of my neck. I responded, and he only rougher, almost demanding. His arm then wrapped around my waist, using his other hand to explore, to let his fingers travel up my spine, to my neck. I couldn't escape him now, as he pushed me against the wall.

It was cold.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, and now he could use both his hands, and I could undo the collar of his tunic.

We parted for an instant to catch our breaths. His eyes were wide, the blue of his irises enrapturing, like the ocean churning.

I kissed him again, opening my lips this time, before, again, we let go. He tossed his tunic to the floor, and I played my hands against his bare chest. I could almost feel his heart beating, could hear my own pounding in my ears. Flushed, I undid my own collar, undoing the buttons. He watched, and our breaths suddenly seemed so in sync. Our hearts, so close, I pressed myself against him again, and kissed the skin at his neck, at his collar bone. He led me to the cot, tossing the dagger to the floor. It skidded, but was quiet.

He fell above me, golden locks hovering over my forehead. Slowly, he traced patterns on my shoulders with his kisses, running down to my collar bone to my ear. I lifted my head, listening to him, as he lifted my skirt, stroked my leg, waited.

"Alina." He whispered. I opened my eyes. The world seemed to spin, but he was there, so vividly.

"Yes?" I murmured, kissing his jaw. His lips. His eyes.

He returned it. Lingered at the base of my neck, nipped. "Are you asking to be saved?"

I dug my nails into his back, felt my heart beating against my ribcage, his heart against my chest. I looked up at him, silently contemplating. But I felt as I already knew the answer.

Quietly, I uttered. "No." And kissed him and beckoned him and held him.

And I _knew_, as we fell. So utterly, so complacently, that this would forever be our downfall.

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	10. Harvesting Tragedies

_**Lost Requiem**_

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Chapter 10: Harvesting Tragedies

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_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Blood whirring, rushing.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Faint breaths, of sleep and rest and innocence.

He.

In the light before dawn he was angelic. Had I known any better I would have not believed he was sent to find me, and, ultimately, walk me to the gallows. No, such innocence prevailed, and my own treachery already had befallen me. In this sense I knew I could not bear it any longer, the rush of darkness that followed me with every step, cowered in places not in my liking, tried to hurt those that did not know any better.

His eyes fluttered, eyelashes tickling my forehead. I brushed a golden lock of hair away from his cheek, then leaned forward and nuzzled his neck, breathing his intoxicating scent, hoping he would not wake. Instead, he moaned softly, tightening his arms around my waist. I leaned into him, feeling his warmth, his skin that, not because of the coldness of the waning night, made my own chill in wanting.

Softly, he breathed, and whispered into my ear. "Would you like to come closer?"

Startled, I laughed. And, instead of pushing me away, he lifted me from the bed and onto him, so that in alliance of what he spoke, had me as close as possible to him were it not for the blanket that was tangled around us.

"Better." He decreed, running a hand through the hair fallen over our faces.

Smiling, I leaned over him and pressed my lips to his. "Yes, very."

"You are in better spirits compared to what we must both face in such short hours." He said.

"I do not care for 'in such short hours'." I told him. "I simply care for now." And I bit my tongue after this to contain myself.

"Do not hurt yourself with such excitement," said he, laughing lightly and running his hand up and down my back, creating more chills that I was sure he felt and enjoyed. I unwrapped my legs from around him and sat, pulling the blanket from him to wrap it around me. He protested and pulled me back down, promising not to let go.

"If you will not let go," I said, "Then you just as well may find yourself fishing for breath six feet underground."

"So be it," he replied, "As long as you take my heart with you."

I felt the silence press against us, then, as I roamed his face with my eyes, searching for the reason in which he had said those words, and maybe, why they had caused me to question them so quickly.

"Do you not…want it?" Asked he, and for a moment, then, I realized that he was teasing me.

But I leaned close to him, tasted his lips. "I would not say _that_."

"Then, what would you say?"

His lips caressed my own as I thought, and then, as I spoke, he nuzzled into my neck. "I only believe that…you must realize that…" He stopped, and his eyes flashed with wonder.

"Yes?" And, curiously, he undid the collar of his own shirt and nuzzled further, down my collarbone, to my heart, further, further. And the further he traveled, the further I forgot my own words, as if with each breath he took from me, he took my mind as well.

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If it had happened any other way, I was sure death would have not been the worst of things to happen. But, as I soon realized the night before, death was, after all, one of the worst things that could ever happen. I would like to think the afterlife would not be so terrible, but it was my life now that I felt the urge to fight for and control. Unfortunately, not everything goes according to your liking, and standing here, in the market place, above all those innocent and naïve heads, watching them as curiously as they watched me, I felt the shame they believed I thought I should feel, should drown in.

The gallows, after all, were usually not a place construed as "good"- entertaining, perhaps, but not _good_…Unless the one being executed was a ruthless criminal, and, perhaps, _I _was considered a ruthless criminal, having come from the Gerudo tribe, killed a "poor, innocent" Hylian, then committed adultery (something they did not know) with the one man promised to a beautiful princess whom seemed to inhabit the very idea of innocence and strength.

It was no wonder she was marrying the Kokiri. He would protect her from the world, and I could imagine it very well.

"…to be ended in the act of death. Do you have any last words?"

Last? Did monsters have last words? Or, simply babbles and half-prayers and pleas of mercy in which no one understood? Monsters could not control what they were taught to do; how could they repent for everything in which the generations before them had told them was the rightful way to do things? Over the vast sea of people, the cloudy sky was dim, and their voices barren and lifeless. Their eyes watched me like vultures. Kill her, kill her, screamed the glint of their irises, in the deep abyss of which there was nothing but souls that had no other choice to exist and thrive on the death of others. A child wailed somewhere, echoing against the still buildings, carrying off into the wind. The bells in the temple struck once, twice, three times.

It was six. The sun hovered over the mountain tops, partially obscured by the clouds that rolled in, rumbling, angry. The executioner, his face hidden behind a black mask, whitened his knuckles against the wooden handle of the axe, and the axe smiled sharply.

Hah, smiled, of course.

"Well?" the man with the scroll in his hand asked. Behind him, Impa grimaced, but her eyes would not meet mine. Somewhere in the crowd stood Princess Zelda and Link, but I could not see them, and I did not search. Why search for a face that had caused so much pain and bliss mere hours ago?

I turned to the blood-stained block of wood before me, the basket on the other side. Gruesome, I thought, and silently stepped forward.

"Do it already." I mumbled, and taken aback, the executioner grunted and shoved me onto my knees. The hard plank scraped my bare knees, and before I could retaliate from the stinging pain, my head had been harshly rested on the block, my neck an easy target.

I closed my eyes, listening to the drumming of my heart and counting the breaths it took to reach my demise. I waited, and waited, heard the crackling of the leather mask and the gauntlets on Impa's hands, felt the soft trickle of cool rain fall on my face, mingling with the sweat dotting my forehead. I licked the water, but it was salty and tasted like copper, and I waited more. But, then, there were footsteps and gasps and voices erupting from all sides, abrupt and scared and angry- so many of them, and although the last thing I truly wanted to see were the executioner's dirty arms raised above me, I opened my eyes, fearing that maybe I had died already and was hearing the responses of the excited peasants below.

The ground was spinning, the clouds swirling, and my heartbeat was quick and my stomach burned and churned with anger. I was not dead, but I hadn't eaten at all, was what my intact body told me. The coldness of the wind sent shivers up my spine, and I wished so mightily that I could die already, but the executioner was missing, and in my attempt to shut out the noise of anyone but mine, I had not heard the sound of the three arrows that had taken the life of the man that was intended to take mine. The familiar, blood red feathers of the arrows pointed daintily up into the sky, their heads brutally implanted into the dead man's chest.

I was thrown onto my feet, pushed down the stairs in which I believed I would never have to climb or descend ever again, and into the riled crowd. They were confused, scared, and in an attempt to escape, pushed each other aside, yelled, screamed, cried. I was, in turn, pulled into them, my arm caught in the snare of a dark hand, tanned from the days of working in the sun, and it was no mistake this masked figure was one of my own, but one I had ultimately betrayed, and now, the blood of the man he had killed to save me was on my face.

Silently, I followed him, down the streets, into alleys, into buildings and above them, until, in the darkness of an empty yet sodden alley, we halted to rest. But, there was little chance to stand, for soon enough, I was pulled to the ground, resting beside my savior, hidden from the soldiers that trampled past the entrance of the alley with little idea of where I had gone.

"I was a fool to have trusted you," he whispered breathlessly through his teeth.

"Yes," I added, struggling with the ropes around my wrists, "But I was much more of a fool for giving you the idea that I could be trusted in the first place."

Kirill laughed, pushing down the hood of his cloak to gaze at me. His eyes were wide, fierce, probing.

"Why did you save me?" I asked him.

"It was not just me," he replied, "I could not have done it alone."

"Then, who?" I demanded, as he reached into the sleeve of his boot and pulled out a silver dagger.

"The Three Sisters," he said, turning me to cut the bonds. "We could not leave you- _I _could not…"

"Because I am important to you, I forgot…" He ignored the sarcasm in my voice, just as I tried to ignore the soreness in my neck.

Once the bonds were cut, he said, "Come with me, the others are waiting." He began to get to his feet, but before he could pull me up beside him, I pushed him away. "Do you dare to demur me, Alina?"

"Leave me, Kirill," I told him, "If you believe I willingly am in want to repay you for your deeds."

"I do not believe such a thing," he mused, "But you must in any other way."

"That is what _you _think." I snorted. "Goodbye, Kirill."

"Was it pleasurable? Gratifying, then?" Said he, suddenly, before I could turn my back to him.

"What?" I snapped.

"Sleeping with our enemy." His tone was cold, and he remained stolid, unmoving.

"Oh, so he has become our enemy, now?" I had no intention of denying it to him.

"You do not try and defend yourself."

"Your observations have always been quite impressively correct."

It seemed his barrier broke, and he snarled. "This is no time for light banter, Alina."

"So, you noticed." I hissed. "Leave me be, Kirill. Allow me to die like the traitor I am."

"No," he exclaimed, taking hold of my arm and drawing me to him. His dark eyes burned, but I could not decipher between his hate and his desires. "You will not be taken away from me, Alina. You had your freedom, but now you will return to me and your clan. I do not care if you killed a man, I do not care if you slept with our enemy, I do not care for anything but you."

I laughed, and he blushed with anger. "Return to you? I am not property, and I, too, do not care for any of those things. I want my freedom, and although I am in debt to you for saving me, I cannot repay you with my own life."

His grip loosened on my arm as he watched me, as though with every breath he took he wished to strip me to nothing, to watch me fall apart before him and lay my secrets into his hands.

I wrenched my arm away from him and waited, wary.

"Then," he murmured, "Promise me the life of another, as you had promised me the days before. Complete what you came here to do. Only then, I will grant you your freedom." Silently, he disappeared into the shadows, as if he truly were made of the darkness he arose from and disappeared just as well. The soft tingle on my arm was all that truly remained of him here, for I was sure the red-feathered arrows were vanished, and but three reminders remained in the dead man on the gallows, blood overflowing around him, glossy and fresh, reflecting the cloudy sky that toiled with that of the goddesses' tears.

There was a tragedy before them.

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Sorry, guys, for the super short chapter but I wanted to have something up a little sooner than usual. Hope you guys enjoyed somewhat. I guess it was more of a filler than anything else. Ahah. Anyway, thank you everyone for the lovely reviews and I hope you guys continue to read and tell me what you think.


	11. A Predisposition

_**Lost Requiem**_

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Chapter 11: A Predisposition

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"Here you are!" His voice bounced off the stone walls of the buildings in the alley, echoing to my ears.

I turned on my heels, heart hammering. It was him. Link. "What- what are you doing here?"

"Alina," he laughed, "You are stealthy, and quite rude. You left not a guard with one notion as to where you escaped to."

"You should not be here." I told him. He shook his head, and took my hands.

"Come with me, we must hurry." And he turned to run, as though I would fervently follow behind him, no speculation, and no scrutiny.

I pulled away from him, angered. "Do not touch me."

His lips parted a second, his eyes lingering on mine as though he could find the answers spread in swirls and in darkness. His brows furrowed, and perhaps, he had found no answer. What inquiry had I truly failed that he was so righteous now, as he had always been?

"Then you won't listen to me." He murmured, stepping away. It felt as though I had stabbed him, slit his throat.

I set my jaw, muffled a small cry. This became my answer, and he turned away slightly, as if to see if I would come after him. I did not, I could not.

"So be it, I will not be in your way," and then he was gone- dust settled where his feet had been, coldness where his touch should have enlisted.

It is over, I told myself, hiding in the shadows of the swaying masses of corruption and the corrupt, living beneath the death of my ancestors, the anger of the spirits. I saw nothing of the angels; the goddesses did not cry to the birds, the birds did not wail to me. There was no existence in hell, I reasoned, and heaven was not mine to claim. I fell with such indignation of my own actions that it was about time I finally came to realize that I was truly abhorred by the thought, yet fully intended to do it. I would do it. Oh, if I could feel the stirring of my own blood inside me, morphing, shaping, I would do it. If this was his last stand, then so it would be mine. If I proved my honor, my own mother could not hate me.

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It took five days to find him- considering that I did not search for him until the day after my supposed execution date. To beguile me further was the fact that I could not find my weaponry, and was forced to make do with a makeshift wooden stake and rope (if this were to be bloodless). I had no money, and I refused to steal, my clothes were dirty and tattered, and I could not find Che no matter how many times I called him. I searched for him, but it would not matter if I were able to find the Rider before I found Che.

"Anything else for you, beautiful?" A white and blue-blotched Fish Face imposed on my thoughts. I stared him down for a second, at his large dark eyes and glistening skin. The dim lighting of the Zora tavern created a sort of glow around his frame, and as he took the ale from my table, it shifted. I watched as he wiped the table clean, perfectly clean as it was before, wiping away the ring of liquid that had dripped from the tin cup.

"No, thank you." I obtained the ale from him and took another sip.

I could feel his gaze on me, traveling. "What's a Gerudo doing down here in the Underworld, if it isn't too much ask?"

"No, it's not." I murmured, swirling the liquid in the cup, searching the bartender's chest for an answer. "I'm dead. Is that full of witty intelligence?"

He laughed, brushing the cloth in his hand against my fingertips as he wiped the stone table again. "It sounds much more morose; I feel decrepit and aging by simply being here. Tell me, do I look like a spirit searching for its bones?"

I rested my elbow on the table, halting his cleaning, and placed my chin in the palm of my hand. "My, my, you do look pale."

He leaned forward, eyes wide, a deep abyss. "What ever shall I do about it?"

"Perhaps you should visit the surface once in a while." I swept the very fine surface of my fingertips against the back of his hand, let them hover just slightly, and then pulled away. "Where the sun shines a darker gray."

"Like I said: morose." He turned away, a small smile on his lips. "And let me tell you," he let his voice carry across the nearly empty tavern, "If you are dead and in the Underworld, what kind of life must you have led?"

"Not quite your business."

He nudged his head, the tail hanging to the base of his back swayed.

I looked away. "My apologies."

"Do not be."

"A generic response to a generic apology; I consider this a true hell."

A voice suddenly came from behind me "Then you must not know what hell truly is like." It resounded against the cavern's walls and made the candlelight flames to flicker. Of course, it was no wonder this voice was maybe just a whisper in my understanding.

I did not turn to face the intruder of this conversation, but noticed the bartender's averting gaze. "Do you care to enlighten me, then, on the matters of hell?"

"I have not the decent word to speak of such things to a woman." Footsteps clip-clapped behind me.

"Do not think so highly of yourself by the lack of placement of your own mind. I surely must acquiesce that women may not be as precarious with our ambitions as men, but sharper, certainly."

"Find me a man that can be as quick of tongue as you," hands rested on my shoulders, a warm breath at the nape of my neck, "And I will hand you my sword forever."

"A proper thing to do, if you believed it true," I murmured this, standing. He did not step away from me, and I turned around to face him.

It was welcoming to see his face again, the depth of the sapphire eyes and the shadows playing under his lips. I faltered from him when I realized there was a wooden stake in my scarce pack of belongings.

"You sent me away, Alina." He continued watching me; a hand reached to my lips, fingers caressing my jaw line, brushing over the nape of my neck. "Shall I say it was a mere twist of fate and nothing more?"

I wanted to shake my head, but I felt but a shudder and nothing else. "No…I…" Tell him to leave, tell him to go, but I didn't- not one single piece of sagacity.

"I can leave, Alina," he whispered, "I can let you leave. This can end."

"You know why I'm here." I tried pushing him away, but he held strong.

He pressed his forehead to mine, "You are a tenacious creature."

"I find that presumptuous of you, dear hero."

He smiled, stepping away and taking my wrists as he did, "Come, let us celebrate for all our accomplishments and our misdeeds."

I glanced behind me- at the exasperated bartender and the eerie darkness of the tavern ceiling. He watched as we left, a raggedy cloth still in his hand as he cleaned the table we had just occupied.

"How did you find me?" He led me through the maze of rock and coral and shell, surreal with the droplets of sea water shimmering from the blue fire light.

"Must I say?" I gripped his hand tight. So warm, so comforting. "Must you assume, now, this is not what I wished."

"I cannot fathom," he whispered, pulling me suddenly into the darkness.

There was the faint sound of the water on the shores of the Zora's fountain, and the dampness of the bare stone against my back, the aroma of damp earth.

He wrapped me in the warmth of his arms and I listened to his breath. "What is this hate you deceive yourself so? Who is it you run away from?"

"Not from," I looked away, hand grasping the collar of his tunic. "No, I suppose not anymore. I am here, am I not?"

"What have you come to accomplish? Hm?" He nudged me with his nose, his lips.

My skin tingled.

"Have you come to finally dispose of me?"

I shuddered. "I came to dispose of myself."

His lips pressed just below my ear, then the other, and then lower. "What, then…" another kiss, another press of the palms of his hand against my hips, "What am I to do?"

"I promise you," I replied as the soft brushes of his lips tantalized a much greater perturbed reaction than intended.

"I have promised you so much already. What is it you swear me?"

"I swear to you I will not hurt you." I felt the upward curve of his lips against mine, the warming presence of him so capable of hurting me.

"Why do you promise me this?" He stepped away for a moment, and I reveled in the shadows of his eyes. "What do you intend to do?"

Slice the gentle strings of your very soul from your beating and bloody heart. What else?

"Nothing," I smiled, "Nothing. Ever." And I kissed him, and I held him, and he was mine.

From the corners of my eye, from the shadows and the rings of light of the sun that penetrated the cracks of the stone walls, I saw Kirill reveling in pleasure.

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So, it's pretty pathetic how short this chapter is, I know. But, it's been almost a year since I updated anything on here because of school, but now I'm just glad to have time to do this again. So, I just wrote in a fun little filler that was pretty much nothing but summing up Alina's thoughts into one big jumble. I'll have more plot in the next chapter. Internal, external, and even a central plot. Wow, exciting. Anyway, hope this was all right. Thanks for reading!


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